It Should Have Been Me
by meredith1018
Summary: Dumbledore has chosen Draco Malfoy as Head Boy, and almost everyone is seriously miffed about it, and none more so than Blaise Zabini. But Dumbledore had a reason for picking Malfoy, and Hermione is at the heart of it. Non HBP/DH compliant. M for language
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note**: This story's non-HBP compliant, so there are no such thing as Horcruxes in this fic. Dumbledore's alive and Snape's still working with the Order, so there you go. In order for the plot I thought of to work, I had to set it in school, causing HBP and DH to be disregarded. If that's not your cup of tea...well, I hope you read anyway!

**Disclaimer**: The only thing that's mine is the plot. Everything else belongs to J.K.Rowling.

* * *

"Well, it's about _time_."

Blaise Zabini had been unusually anxious for his Hogwarts letter to arrive this summer.

He'd only ever been anxious about his letter once before – the summer before his fifth year. He had been expecting to be made prefect then, and had been sourly disappointed to discover that Draco Malfoy had received it.

This summer was similar in that Blaise was holding out hope for something more than just his book list. Sincerely hoping that this would be one of the unusual years in which the Head Boy picked was one who had not been a Prefect, Blaise was seriously expecting to receive the coveted badge.

Once again, he was disappointed.

Blaise scowled down at his book list. How could he have _not _been made Head Boy? Yeah, he hadn't been a prefect, but he had been so sure that he was going to do what few Head Boy's before had done and been selected despite not having been a prefect.

It really just came down to unfairness, Blaise fumed inwardly as he strode from the kitchen towards his room. He had consistently had the second best grades in his class. Other than the Mudblood Granger, no one else had ever gotten better grades or more O.W.L.s than he had, including the prefects. Malfoy got decent grades, but they didn't even come close to Blaise's. If Malfoy was made Head Boy it would undoubtedly be due to his family's influence; but on the other hand, his family's connections to the Dark Lord could work against him. Weasley's grades were so mediocre that it would be positively insulting if _he_ had been made Head Boy, although the fact that he was best friends with Potter probably didn't hurt him. Anthony Goldstein's grades were almost as good as Blaise's, though, and Ernie Macmillan's were also right up there. If either of them were made Head Boy it would be down to their squeaky-clean record and the fact that they were definitely supporters of Harry Potter.

Blaise, now scowling from the comfort of his bed, felt the anger starting to wear off and give way to annoyed curiosity. He supposed he would be the least insulted if Macmillan or Goldstein got Head Boy. Their grades, records, and affiliations to Potter just made them natural choices. Malfoy, on the other hand, had decent grades but a spotty record; Weasley just had spotty everything.

But Blaise had near perfect grades and a spotless record. Unlike some of the other Slytherins in his class, he preferred to keep a low profile. He hadn't gotten so much as a reprimand in his previous six years. He may hang around those with connections to the Dark Lord, but he didn't have any himself. His mother, who was too concerned with her image to risk damaging it by joining the Death Eaters, had instructed him to stay close with the students who had parents in the Death Eaters; she sympathized with their cause – as did Blaise – but drew the line there. It was essential, she always told him, to not actually _be _on a side, because then they wouldn't be on the losing side.

Of course, his below-the-radar persona probably didn't help him either. He may get some of the best grades, but his lack of class participation made this a little-known fact. Blaise doubted whether any other students even realized that he was second in their class. And it wasn't like he was involved in anything, which also most likely worked against him. He had never been interested in joining any clubs, and he had never been that interested in Quidditch.

When it came down to it, Blaise was low-key in just about every respect. He was even reserved outside of class around other students. He wasn't one for attention, although he had the looks for it. In fact, he _used _to get a fair amount of attention from the female population of the school, but his lack of interest in any of the girls who'd so ostentatiously thrown themselves at him had led many to believe that he swung the other way. It was untrue, of course. He just didn't think them worthy of his attention. Blaise would be the first to admit that when it came to girls, his standards were ridiculously high.

Yes, Hogwarts girls were rather second-rate, Blaise thought vaguely. And which one to be Head Girl?

It was so obvious that they might as well have announced it in first year. The Mudblood Hermione Granger may have had a few marks on her record, but her grades were almost ridiculously perfect. The other prefects didn't have a chance in hell, Blaise thought, somewhat bitterly. He'd always been seriously annoyed by Granger, and would have fervently hoped that another girl snagged the title of Head Girl if it hadn't been for the fact that Granger would have to drop out of school in order for that to happen.

Well, on the plus side, at least he wouldn't have to spend a year working with Hermione Granger.

* * *

"How can you even be surprised?"

Hermione didn't even answer Ron as she stared in shock at her new Head Girl's badge. In reality, part of her had been expecting it. But another, much more insecure part of her knew that there was a chance she wouldn't get it. Her grades were fantastic, but her record definitely had some serious flaws.

"It really was sort of given, Hermione," Harry told her, exchanging an amused glance with Ron.

"Almost as much of a given as the fact that you _wouldn't _be made Head Boy," Ginny said, grinning at her brother, who scowled back at her.

"I wonder who it was," Hermione mused, finally drawing her gaze away from the Head Girl badge. "I thought for sure it would be one of you two."

"But I wasn't even a prefect," Harry said, confused.

"Neither was your dad, but he was made Head Boy," Hermione pointed out.

"Yeah, well…never mind then," Harry conceded.

"Well, just as long as it's not Malfoy," Ron said. "God knows what the rest of the school would have to put up with if he got it. The bastard's ego would need its own House."


	2. Chapter 2

_Unbelievable, _Blaise fumed.

Draco Malfoy had been made Head Boy. It was completely unfair. Malfoy's associations with the Death Eaters was so blatantly obvious it was almost laughable. The fact that Dumbledore had chosen him as Head Boy only proved that the Headmaster was officially insane. Blaise glared at the Headmaster in question, who was currently tucking into his mashed potatoes.

The train ride to Hogwarts had been nearly unbearable. Malfoy had strutted up and down the train for a good two hours showing off his badge (and most likely abusing his power) before finally settling down in the compartment with Blaise, Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle. It had been hard for Blaise to participate in discussion with the others, who spent the majority of the train ride plotting ways to torment Potter and Weasley; now that Malfoy was Head Boy, there was little the brainless duo could do to retaliate.

Of course, the brief periods in which the others weren't plotting were spent thoroughly abusing the new Head Girl. To no one's surprise, Granger had been given the title. Malfoy was exceedingly pissed about this fact, and kept spontaneously bursting into mini-rants about Mudbloods not being fit to be given the title of Head Girl.

Blaise had, of course, nodded in agreement during these tirades. But inwardly he disagreed. He could wish that one of the other Prefects had been Head Girl, but he couldn't deny that Granger deserved the badge, despite the fact that she was Mudblood. This was something he could never admit aloud, because the other Slytherins would undoubtedly disown him and accuse him of being a blood traitor.

And Pansy in particular would probably murder him. She was more pissed than even Malfoy that Granger had been made Head Girl. She had constantly interrupted Malfoy's rants to add her own opinion of the Mudblood.

"How could he pick _her_? She's not even that smart! She just has nothing better to do than homework and studying!" Pansy would pout. "And she's _so _ugly. Why would Dumbledore pick someone ugly as Head Girl? It's insulting!"

Whatever. Blaise threw another glare at the Headmaster before turning back to his plate.

* * *

"How _could_ he?" Hermione complained again, throwing a look of the deepest disgust at the new Head Boy. Though she had spent a good deal of the train ride complaining with Ron and Harry about Dumbledore's choice of Head Boy, Hermione was still extremely angry. "Anthony and Ernie have _much_ better grades!"

"Not to mention that neither of them are destined to become Death Eaters," Ron grumbled, throwing his own look of disgust in Malfoy's direction. Over the summer, Snape had reported to the Order a rough list of which seventh year Slytherins were planning on taking the Dark Mark after school ended. Draco Malfoy's name had been at the very top.

"Maybe Dumbledore thought he could keep a better eye on him if he made him Head Boy," Harry suggested for probably the twentieth time that day. "The Heads work a lot of the teachers, so it would be easy to keep tabs on him."

"I hope that's the reason," Hermione said. "Because Dumbledore would have to be completely _insane_ if he made Malfoy Head Boy because of his grades or his behavior record."

"I always said the man was bonkers," Ron pointed out, beaming in the direction of the Headmaster. "He always has a reason for his decisions, after all."

"Well I'd love to hear his reason for this particular one." Hermione frowned as Dumbledore stood up at the front table. He certainly _better _have a good reason for making Malfoy Head Boy and subjecting her to his sickening presence during patrols and meetings with the teachers throughout the year.

She carefully rearranged her features into a smile as the Headmaster dismissed them, and stood up with Ron and Harry to walk up to the Gryffindor common room together.

"Miss Granger, a moment?" Hermione turned around to see McGonagall walking briskly toward her. "Dumbledore would like to a brief meeting with you and Mr. Malfoy. Follow me."

Hermione waved in goodbye to Ron and Harry before following McGonagall to collect Malfoy.

* * *

That had been the absolute worst welcoming feast, at least in Blaise's opinion. He'd had to put up with Malfoy's bragging the _entire _time. He'd also had to put up with Pansy simultaneously complaining about Granger and positively fawning over Malfoy.

It had been revolting.

Blaise had left the Great Hall so quickly after McGonagall whisked Malfoy away that he had arrived in the Slytherin common room before anyone. Not being in the mood to mingle with the other Slytherins, he went straight into the boys' seventh year dorm. He was still extremely pissed and rather felt like being alone for the time being.

_Hold on_...Blaise eyed the room suspiciously. Shouldn't there be another bed in the room? He counted the beds again, and there was definitely one bed too few. But everyone had been at the feast. Why were there only four beds?

Blaise frowned as he thought it over. Who was going to be bed-less?

His thoughts were interrupted as the other boys entered the room, guffawing loudly over some (no doubt stupid ) joke. Blaise moved towards the bed farthest from the door, where the plate on the trunk at the foot of the bed said _Zabini_. He looked back at the others, and realized the only one not in the room was Malfoy. As each boy opened his own trunk, it dawned on Blaise that Malfoy's belongings were also absent. But why…?

And then it dawned on him that Malfoy must not be sharing the room with them this year. Had Dumbledore decided that Head Boys should get their own room? Or had he decided that the Heads got to share a separate common room?

Absolutely not. Blaise thought it almost silly of himself to even consider the possibility of Dumbledore forcing Malfoy and Granger to share private living quarters. He chuckled to himself as he pulled on his pajamas.

There was no way in hell Dumbledore was _that _insane.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** So I wanted each chapter to have at least one portion from Blaise's perspective and one from Hermione's, but this chapter is just in Hermione's perspective. I thought about extending it to have some Blaise, but I felt like this chapter needed to just be about...er, what it's about. It's kind of one of the most important plot aspects, so I wanted to keep it focused. Just thought I'd put that out there.

* * *

"With all due respect, _why?_" Hermione asked Dumbledore, not impolitely.

"I have discussed the issue with your Heads of House and we have decided that this shared living situation will help promote inter-house harmony during these deeply troubling times," Dumbledore answered, gesturing behind him towards Snape and McGonagall.

Hermione wanted desperately to blurt out that inter-house harmony between Gryffindor and Slytherin was a lost cause but held her tongue.

Malfoy looked positively outraged and opened his mouth to say something but was quelled with a sharp look from Snape.

"Mr. Malfoy, you are free to go. Miss Granger, if you'd stay just a few more moments I have something I'd like to discuss with you." Malfoy was already on his way to the door before Dumbledore finished speaking and left without a backwards glance. Snape raised his eyebrows at this extremely rude departure but said nothing.

Hermione was inwardly livid. A whole year sharing living quarters with _Malfoy?_

"Now, Miss Granger. I can see you look less than pleased about your new living arrangement," Dumbledore said, clearly not having been fooled by her attempt at a polite expression.

"Well, not exactly," she admitted, looking at the floor.

"I am aware that there has been a history of animosity between the two of you, and I completely understand your hesitance. However, I feel you must know the real reason as to why the three of us have reached this decision."

Hermione's head snapped up. Real reason? Inter-house harmony wasn't the real reason? Well, she _had _thought it a bit stupid…

"Sir?"

But it was Snape who spoke. "As you know, Draco Malfoy is planning to take the Dark Mark shortly after the end of the school year. He has never been one for subtlety, and I have often overheard him bragging to his closer friends about Death Eater information. That being said, I suggested to the Headmaster and to Professor McGonagall that we find a way to monitor Draco this year."

"And I quite agreed with Professor Snape," Dumbledore said with a nod. "We therefore decided that the best way to do so was to appoint him Head Boy over our first choice, as the Head Boy title requires constant interaction with teachers. We knew, of course, that we needed a much more detailed surveillance of Draco. Professor Snape brought up Draco's penchant for bragging, and Professor McGonagall suggested we find a way to observe these more private discussions. After much debate, we came to the conclusion that the best way to do this was to have the Head Boy and Girl share common living quarters - " (Snape's lip curled at this point, making it clear to Hermione that he found the idea of her and Malfoy living together rather amusing; no doubt he hoped Malfoy would antagonize her to death) " – and for the Head Girl to report back any important information she may overhear."

Hermione's mind was reeling. Had she also been chosen for convenience?

As if able to read her thoughts, Dumbledore smiled knowingly at her. "Miss Granger, You should know that I had already decided on you as Head Girl before this point. In fact, I had a different Head Boy picked originally but was inclined to switch to Draco Malfoy for the points already discussed."

This reassurance was met with a scowl from Snape (it was no secret he had never liked Hermione) and an approving nod from McGonagall, who now spoke. "Miss Granger, in order for us to gain information from Draco Malfoy, you're going to need to be able to eavesdrop most effectively whenever he has guests over. Are you expecting to have any trouble with this task?"

"Of course not, Professor," Hermione replied, already going over spells in her head that might be able to help her with this.

"Very well. Thank you for your cooperation, Miss Granger. You are free to leave," Dumbledore smiled, gesturing towards the door.

Hermione stood up, and with a small smile in goodbye, made her way out the door and down the spiral staircase.

So she was supposed to spy on Malfoy. Hermione sincerely hoped that her sanity would remain intact long enough for her to find out anything.

And who had the original Head Boy been? Hermione frowned as she arrived in front of the portrait on the fifth floor that her new common room lay behind. She made a mental note to ask McGonagall in private who it had been.

"Espionage," Hermione said, finding the password to be so ironic it was almost obvious.

It was therefore a good thing that Draco Malfoy wasn't known for cleverness.

No, cleverness was definitely not Malfoy's strong point, Hermione though vaguely as she climbed through the portrait hole into her new common room.

Hermione looked around at her new common room. It looked largely similar to the Gryffindor common room, minus the red and gold color scheme (the furniture, carpet, and walls were all in neutral shades) and everything looked brand new. There were two doors on the other side of the room, one with an "HG" plaque and one with an "HB" plaque. The Head Boy door was shut, which meant that Malfoy was shut away for the night.

Feeling better knowing that Malfoy wouldn't be bothering her for at least tonight, Hermione walked into her new bedroom. It also looked very much like her old one in Gryffindor tower. Of course, there was only one bed in this room. There was also a large bureau in one corner and a door next to it. Hermione moved across her room, opened the door, peered inside, and beamed. It was what appeared to be a replica of the prefect's bathroom, downsized to be more suitable for single-person use.

Hermione shut the bathroom door and walked over to her trunk to unpack, silently praising God that she didn't have to share a bathroom with Malfoy.

* * *

**Author's Note:** HA! I totally made the Head Boy and Head Girl share a dorm without falling into the trap of the HB and HG falling in love. I felt like the whole HB and HG sharing a dorm and falling in love was way too common (not that there aren't good fics out there that do that, because there definitely are) and I wanted mine to be different, so I got creative. I think it worked, but I could be wrong.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note**: I just though I'd thank Topaz.Emerald.Onyx.Sexy, who left my _very first_ review for this account! It was greatly appreciated, as all reviews are, and it totally motivated me to get this next chapter up faster. So here it is!

* * *

The next morning, Hermione rushed out of the Heads' dorm before Malfoy woke up and ran the entire way to Gryffindor tower.

"Flobberworms!" Hermione gasped at the Fat Lady, clutching a terrible stitch in her side. Why had she decided to run?

She climbed through the open portrait hole, and upon not seeing Harry and Ron in the common room ran up the stairs to the boys' seventh year room.

"Dean, Seamus, Neville, _out!_" She ordered. All five boys were still in bed, and the three she addressed grumbled and cursed. Seamus was particularly grouchy as he pulled back his hangings to glare at her.

"Hermione, you can't just come barging in here and expect - "

"I said _out!_" She said again, raising her voice and glaring right back. The three boys grumbled some more and even Neville shot her a dirty look as they dragged themselves out of bed and made their way past her out the door.

"Hermione, what's going on?" Harry yawned, putting his glasses on.

"I needed to speak to you two in private," she replied, looking around for Ron.

"Nrghh," Ron mumbled, rolling over in his bed "You couldn't have waited until we were actually awake?"

Hermione scowled.

"Just shut up and listen."

* * *

"They asked you to _spy?_"

Hermione sighed. She'd just finished explaining what Dumbledore, Snape, and McGonagall had assigned her to do for the second time. But Ron wasn't known for his ability to properly grasp concepts the first time around, and apparently he wasn't all that great with the second go either.

Harry, being superior to Ron in the art of concept-grasping, clearly saw the annoyance playing across Hermione's face and jumped to her aid. "And you said they had a different Head Boy picked out?"

"Yes, Dumbledore said he had already assigned the post."

"I wish I knew who it was. He didn't tell you, did he?" Ron asked.

"No. But I'm thinking about asking McGonagall the first chance I get," Hermione answered, and glanced at her watch. "Oh, we better get down to breakfast to get our schedules. If we have Transfiguration today, I'll ask her then."

They speculated on the Head Boy situation on their way down to the Great Hall. Hermione was convinced it was either Ron or Harry, but they both thought that Anthony Goldstein and Ernie Macmillan were far more likely.

"Do you _know _how many detentions we've had, Hermione? Do you _know _how many times we screwed up?" Ron asked as they sat down at the Gryffindor table.

"Well, you were made prefect weren't you? And it could have been Harry, but there can only be one boy - "

"Yeah, but this isn't prefect, Hermione. It's _Head Boy_. That's a little bit bigger than prefect."

"But you're his favorites, everyone knows it."

"But that doesn't mean that he'll - "

"Here comes McGonagall," Harry said, cutting off the bickering.

Hermione debated whether or not to ask McGonagall about the Head Boy as she was handed her schedule, but then decided that her strictest teacher wouldn't care to discuss it in front of other students.

"Alright, Transfiguration first thing!" Ron exclaimed. Hermione and Harry gave him an odd look, having never seen him excited about one of their most difficult classes before. Ron noticed them eyeing him and his ears turned a light shade of pink. "Well, er, we can figure out that whole Head Boy issue, that's all…"

Harry and Hermione both rolled their eyes and went back to examining their schedule. "Good, no Potions today. I _hate _when we have Snape on our first day back," Harry said.

* * *

As soon as Transfiguration was over and the rest of the students were grumbling about their homework assignment on their way out of the classroom, Hermione hurried up to Professor McGonagall's desk.

"Professor, may I ask you something?"

"Certainly, Miss Granger."

"Um, I was just wondering – I mean, I know I probably shouldn't – I'm just really curious – what I mean to say is that, er, do you know who was originally chosen to be Head Boy?" Hermione was suddenly nervous that McGonagall would find her question inappropriate and immediately started blushing at the prospect.

But it turned out that she was worrying for nothing, for McGonagall didn't even bat an eyelash at her question.

"But of course! It was I who suggested it. One of the duties of Deputy Headmistress is reviewing the grades and records of all pupils and narrowing down those eligible to become prefects and Heads. I suggested to Dumbledore and the other Heads of Houses that Blaise Zabini be chosen for Head Boy, and they all quite agreed. But due to the circumstances that you are aware of, we ended up with Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall frowned slightly, clearly showing that she thought Malfoy wasn't worthy to be Head Boy, much to Hermione's satisfaction.

But her satisfaction was overshadowed by surprise as she thanked McGonagall and made her to her next class. Blaise Zabini, Head Boy? Hermione supposed he got good grades, but it was hard to tell. She hardly ever noticed Zabini, to be honest; he only ever spoke in class if a teacher called on him directly. He usually hung around Malfoy in classes and at meals, but he never really joined the other Slytherins in throwing taunts at Harry or anyone, which was quite unusual for a Slytherin.

Hermione ducked into Charms just in time and quickly relayed the information to Harry and Ron. Needless to say, they were just as surprised as she was. On top of his surprise, Ron was very disgruntled at the news.

"So it would have been a Slytherin anyway? That's just _wrong!_" He groaned. "I mean, Slytherins are so…Slytherin!"

"Really, Ron, just because he's a Slytherin doesn't automatically make him stupid. He's so under the radar that he could have better grades than our whole year - "

Ron cut Hermione off with a harsh laugh. "Yeah, right! You're top of the class than everyone and you know it!"

Hermione was unable to respond as Professor Flitwick, who had been moving amongst the students and checking their work as they practiced spells from the previous years for review, arrived in front of their table.

"Alright, let's see those Cheering Charms!"

* * *

"But I don't _want _a fire!"

"Then go in your room!"

"There's no table in room. Put the fire out."

"No, it's freezing in here! Just because you're so cold-blooded that heat causes you extreme discomfort doesn't mean - "

"I'm not cold-blooded, I just like it cool - "

"Like I care! If you don't want a fire than go in your damn room!"

Hermione only ever swore when extremely pissed off, and right now she was. Malfoy had come bursting into the common room to do his homework, saw the fire in the fireplace, and immediately demanded that she put it out. Which, of course, she refused to do, seeing as it was absolutely freezing without the fire.

"I told you, there's no table in there!" Draco fumed.

"You're a wizard, for chrissake! Transfigure your sock or something into a desk and change it back when you're done! Oh, excuse me; I forgot for a minute that you're far too _stupid _to be able to do that," Hermione spat, turning back to her Transfiguration homework.

"I'm _not _too stupid to do that! I just don't want to," Draco said, scowling at her. But Hermione could tell that he just didn't know the spell.

She contemplated telling him just so he'd leave her alone, but decided she'd rather him be uncomfortable and pointedly ignored him.

Malfoy, seeing that he wasn't going to help her and deciding to take matters into his own hands, turned to the fireplace and put it out with a wave of his wand.

"Hey!" Hermione exclaimed indignantly.

Malfoy just smirked at her and plopped down in an armchair. Hermione debated restarting the fire, but assumed he would just keep putting it out again and decided to just go to her room.

But she "accidentally" elbowed his shoulder on her way there, just to make herself feel better.

* * *

_Dear Blaise:_

_I hope your year has started off well. Try not to let the Head Boy think affect you and get in the way of your schoolwork; it's only badge. Just as long as you know you're superior to the rest of the students, that's all that really matters._

_I should let you know that Narcissa Malfoy has been owling me frequently, trying - again - to convince me to join the Death Eaters. I've kindly told her on numerous occasions that I simply don't have the time to involve myself further in their cause, but she is persistent, despite my telling her that we might be moving out of the country within the year. Her behavior leads to me believe that Draco will probably try and convince you to join after school, and I must impress upon you once again how important it is to stay out of the Death Eaters. You must seem reluctant to decline, and explain to him that you simply will not have time. If pressured, let it slip that you might be moving to Italy after school (as I've done, and it seems to work). It is vital to support their cause without joining, as you know. Just be wary, and be careful._

_Sincerely,_

_Your mother_

Blaise set the letter down. It was well past midnight, but his mother had always preferred to send him letters at night. She was rather paranoid, and didn't like the idea of anyone reading over his shoudler. Blaise found this unnecessary; no one was interested enough in him to try and read his letters. But Blaise liked reading his letters in private anyway, so he didn't really mind.

So Draco would be lobbying him to join the Death Eaters. He could have guessed that without his mother's warning, to be honest. All of the Slytherins in seventh year were aware of Draco's plans for after the school year, and it was common knowledge that he would be trying to persuade the rest of them to join. Of course, Crabbe, Goyle, and a few others were already set on joining. Blaise and the seventh year girls were the only ones who weren't set on the idea yet.

For Blaise – as well as his mother – joining was not an option. Blaise's mother had explained to him that if the Dark Lord were to be defeated again it would make it supremely hard to be welcomed back into high wizarding society. And Blaise was so _not_ interested in either Azkaban or pretending to have been under the Imperius Curse. Too much work.

No, it was far more beneficial to remain uninvolved. Blaise and his mother aligned themselves with the Death Eaters so as not become targets, but that's as far as they would go.

Blaise tore up the letter – not wanting any of his roommates to find it – and set the remains on fire with the tip of his wand and scowled down at the flames. He was not looking forward to having to listen to Draco Malfoy constantly pester him to join the Death Eaters.

He'd become quite annoyed with everything Draco did these days, to tell the truth. It was probably because Draco flashed around his stupid Head Boy badge every chance he got, rubbing it into everyone's face that he was 'better' than them.

Blaise scowled even deeper. _It should have been me_.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:** And I'm back! Sorry for the delay, but my muses decided to take a vacation for a while, and I can't write without my muses being present and in full swing. Anyway, I'm not sure how long it will be till my next update. Could be a few days, could be a few weeks, or maybe a few months (again). Considering I have eleven chapters planned out already, you'd think I'd be able to churn out at least one chapter a week. But alas, I'm extremely lazy. Oh well.

* * *

"Granger, out."

"Excuse me, but no."

"Get out."

"It's _our _common room, Malfoy, not _yours._"

"Well, I have a guest and I don't want you hanging around during our private conversation."

Hermione was currently sitting on the couch in the common room working on her Transfiguration homework. Typically, Malfoy had felt the need to destroy her quiet atmosphere by barging in with Blaise Zabini in tow and demanding she vacate the common room at once. But Hermione wasn't budging. "You have a room. Use it."

"There's no couch in there - "

"For God's sake, Malfoy, just transfigure your hat or something for a few hours."

"I don't _want _to transfigure my hat."

"You mean you don't know how?"

Malfoy glared at her but didn't respond.

Hermione, sensing a victory, smiled sweetly at him. "Are you telling me that the Head Boy can't perform a little simple spell we learned years ago in Transfiguration?"

"It's not really _that_ simple - "

"Please, even Neville can do it."

"I'm so sure. Longbottom couldn't do that spell to save his life."

"Well, why don't you ask your guest to help you? I'm sure _he _knows the spell." She smirked. Blaise narrowed his eyes at her, but it was a glowering Malfoy who responded.

"What's _that _supposed to mean?"

"Oh, nothing. You know, I think _I'll _go to my room. I mean, I do know how to turn my hat into a couch, unlike those of lesser talent." With one last condescending look towards Malfoy, Hermione gathered her books and walked into her room.

Instead of turning her hat into a couch, Hermione threw her books onto her bed and pointed her wand at her door. "_Rivalita!_"

" – such a bitch. I can't believe I have to live with her…"

* * *

"…for an entire term. It's like hell on earth," Draco groaned, sinking onto the couch and stretching out. "I mean, how would you feel?"

"Well I'd be pissed as shit about it. _Silencio_," Blaise pointed his wand at the Head Girl's door. The last thing he needed was Granger overhearing what was certain to turn into a stump speech on behalf of the Death Eaters.

"And of all the years to combine living quarters! Why couldn't they have waited until next year? If they even knew how annoying that stupid Mudblood is I guarantee they wouldn't have forced this torture on me."

Blaise decided it was better not mention that all the professors (minus Snape) basically worshipped Hermione Granger's brain, and settled for nodding in agreement.

"So have you thought any more about what you're doing after school's over?" Draco asked.

Blaise sighed. Well, he knew this had been coming. "Not really."

"I think you should really consider being initiated after graduating. The Dark Lord is really into having Dumbledore's students fighting against him. He's got this thing for the irony of it."

"I'd really like to, but I don't think I'll have enough time. You know how my mother likes to travel all the time, and she's taking me with her as a graduation gift this summer," Blaise said. It was a lie, but he knew it would sound valid. His mom really _did _have a thing for vacations.

"Then tell her you have a better offer. She'll understand," Draco said, twirling his wand. "And if she doesn't, just move out. You're old enough, you know."

"Fine. I'll think about it," Blaise lied. "I have all year."

Draco appeared satisfied for now, and started blabbering on about Quidditch ("I'll beat Potter this year if it kills me!"), cueing Blaise to tune him out and think about his own problems – i.e. more inner complaining about not being made Head Boy and the minor relief of not having to live with Hermione Granger for a whole school year.

* * *

Hermione finished scribbling down the small bit of information she'd garnered from the conversation between Zabini and Malfoy - the part about Voldemort wanting to use a bunch of students against Dumbledore and how Malfoy seemed to be the one in charge of persuading said students - on her parchment.

In all actuality she wasn't very surprised about Voldemort wanting Dumbledore to have to fight his own students, but she was a little surprised at Zabini's seeming reluctance to make a commitment (which she also noted on her parchment). It was common knowledge that the would-be-Head-Boy and his mother were definite Voldemort supporters, so why wasn't Blaise eager to join the fight against Dumbledore and Harry, especially considering how he was in Malfoy's inner circle? And honestly, everyone knew they were all future Death Eaters.

Hermione frowned at her parchment. Zabini or no Zabini, she knew Dumbledore would _not _be happy about having to fight his own students. She was sure he was already aware that some choice seventh year Slytherins (like Malfoy's little circle) were planning on fighting against him, but if that number continued to grow it would probably be devastating for him.

Then again, they were a bunch of cretins who probably weren't skilled enough to even get near him come the big battle.

Sighing, Hermione rolled up her parchment. Should she deliver this to Dumbledore tonight or tomorrow? He hadn't specified how quickly she should report back any news she heard, and Hermione didn't consider the information she'd heard tonight all that urgent. It was probably nothing new to Dumbledore anyway; he always had a way of knowing stuff like this. Snape had probably told him about Voldemort's plan for gathering student support ages ago; the important thing would be to find out who those kids would be, something that would be easier for her to find out than Snape.

When it came to inside information, Snape was more likely to hear battle plans; Hermione was more likely to hear information involving students. She wondered vaguely whether that was the only kind of information she'd actually obtain of any importance.

But it _was_ Dumbledore, who cared about the safety of his students above all else. He was sure to want to know which ones were at risk of being lost to the other side, which ones would be in danger.

And considering Hermione hadn't got any specific names tonight, she deemed it appropriate to wait to report back to Dumbledore the next day, and happily pulled her Transfiguration homework back out.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I know, it wasn't a terribly exciting chapter. But it was a pretty important part of the exposition, and I promise the story picks up a bunch in the next chapter. Now it's just a question of how soon I write it.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: **HA! Two chapters within three hours! And this one is way more interesting (imo) than the last one. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

"I always kind of thought Malfoy would try to get a bunch of the Slytherins to join with him after school," said Harry. Hermione had reported to Dumbledore first thing that morning, and had joined Harry and Ron in the Gryffindor common room before breakfast to discuss what she'd heard the night before. They were sitting in their favorite chairs by the fire, and the room was empty except for them; the rest of the Gryffindors had yet to wake up.

"Yes, I suppose Dumbledore expected it, too. I'm sure the only important information I'll hear that Snape hasn't already reported will involve students. Malfoy's bound to mention names one of these days," Hermione replied, and Harry and Ron nodded in agreement.

"What I don't get is why Zabini hasn't jumped fully onto the bandwagon. I mean, everyone knows his family supports You-Know-Who," Ron said.

"Maybe he just doesn't want to," Harry said. "Maybe he's afraid he'll, you know, die."

"That could be a possibility," Hermione conceded. Slytherins, after all, were known for self-preservation. Staying out of the Death Eaters might be Zabini's way of making sure he didn't get attacked by members of the Order. "Regardless of whether he joins them or not, he could still choose to fight. It's not just Order members fighting Voldemort, so there's bound to be non-Death Eaters fighting us."

"Makes sense," Harry agreed as Ron's stomach growled rather loudly. Hermione rolled her eyes as Ron stood up. "Reckon they've served breakfast yet?"

* * *

Blaise restrained himself from stabbing Pansy with his fork.

It was common knowledge that Pansy was completely obsessed with Draco, and she'd been fawning over him all breakfast. Draco, Blaise knew, thought Pansy was highly annoying, but the bastard loved attention and put up with it. Well, barely.

"Really Draco, you should part your hair to the side, it's - "

"Pansy, if I part my hair to the side I'll look like a twelve year old boy named Hector."

"You will not!" Pansy pouted. "You'll look handsome!"

"Are you saying I don't already look handsome?"

"No, of course not! You'll just look even _more _handsome!"

"Bollocks, I'll look like a complete prat."

"Come on, Draco, please? Your hair would look so cute! Do it for me!"

"Absolutely not."

Blaise plunked his head on the table. That girl was the most annoying thing he had ever met, and that included Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs. He decided to tune Pansy and Draco out completely, because it was far healthier than listening.

He'd been thinking about his conversation with Draco from the previous night all morning. So the Dark Lord wanted the Slytherins to fight against Dumbledore. It was quite ironic, but also a bit stupid, in Blaise's opinion. Most of the upper year Slytherins weren't all that bright, so he doubted they'd be of much use in a major battle. Or any battle, for that matter.

Then again, Dumbledore was an odd guy. He actually liked students for some reason that Blaise couldn't fathom, and he probably wouldn't be too keen on fighting his own students, regardless of their intelligence level.

But they really were a big bunch of morons. The odds of Dumbledore coming up against them were slim too none; they were bound to be dead or injured before they got anywhere close to him. It was _Dumbledore_. They could complain about him all they wanted, but that man had skill.

"Oh, the Dream Team's here," Pansy said in scathing sing song voice. Blaise, along with everyone at the table, knew it meant that Potter and his friends had arrived in the Great Hall; Pansy, for some unknown reason, always felt it necessary to announce their presence, giving them various nicknames (which were usually very, very lame).

Blaise, out of instinct, picked his head off the table and watched as Potter, Weasley, and Granger made their way towards their seat. He always thought it was a bit rich of them to complain about Malfoy being so arrogant and swaggering all over the castle; those three acted like they owned the damn place, whether they were aware of it or not. Especially Granger; she always walked around with her nose turned up, the know-it-all.

As he inwardly complained about her, said Head Girl turned her head and gave him a curious sort of look before looking away again.

Blaise frowned. What was that about? It wasn't just one of those passing glances. like when you're bored and you stare aimlessly around the room, and you accidentally make eye contact with someone; no, it was a questioning look, as if she were asking a mental question as she glanced at him.

And then it occurred to him: had she heard his conversation with Draco last night? She had been in the next room, after all. Maybe his silencing spell hadn't worked, and she'd heard them discussing him joining the Death Eaters.

No, that wasn't possible. Silencing spells were incredibly simple; there was no way he'd messed it up. She probably just thought his hair looked funny or something (which was bullshit, because his hair never looked funny). Maybe it was -

There! Another puzzling look, compliments of Hermione Granger! Blaise glared back at her, but she merely took a bite of toast and looked back at Weasley, totally unaffected by his hostile look.

What the _fuck _was her problem?

"Hey Blaise, why are you squeezing your sausage like that?" Pansy asked, causing Draco to snigger and Crabbe and Goyle to wonder what they'd missed.

* * *

"…and try not fail abysmally, as some of you usually tend to do," Snape said, glaring at everyone. Snape has set them a ridiculously difficult potion to start the term off with, undoubtedly as an indication of what was to come this N.E.W.T. year.

_Ah, well,_ Blaise sighed. He wasn't all that worried; Potions had always been his best subject, although he was _always _overshadowed by – you guessed it – Hermione Granger.

Speaking of the Head Girl, Blaise now hated her more than ever. She'd glanced at him in that odd way of hers again as she'd entered the classroom, and this time Weasley and Potter had, too, both with slightly amused expressions.

Well bugger them, Blaise thought as he got up to get his supplies from the store cupboard. They could look at him funny all they wanted, his hair looked just fine.

"I wasn't finished!" Snape snapped, and all the students that had begun to get their ingredients sat back down. Snape's mouth twisted into a rather sadistic (and disturbing) smile, and Blaise knew no one was going to like what he said next. "You'll be working in groups of two, and I'll be deciding who works with whom."

Everyone in the class shifted anxiously; partners designated by teachers never ended well.

There weren't that many students to be paired off. The four Ravenclaws somehow managed to get partnered together, and Ernie MacMillan (the lone Hufflepuff) was paired with Weasley. Which left…

"Malfoy with Granger, Potter and Zabini. Now get to work!"

Blaise groaned. Working with Potter was sure to be tedious…but then again, Draco probably had it worse.

After Potter had moved next to Blaise and they'd gathered their ingredients, they set to work on the potion. They ended up working largely without talking, aside from reading off steps, which ended up being very effective; their potion was turning out quite well.

Draco and Granger, however, couldn't seem to shut up.

"No, you're doing it _wrong!_" Granger snapped, slapping Draco's hand away from the newt liver he was chopping up. "You're supposed to cut it in even amounts!"

"I know what I'm doing. And don't touch me!"

"Well you could have fooled me, Malfoy!"

Blaise snickered. It was always entertaining to hear those two fight, especially since it usually ended in Snape docking points from Gryffindor.

Which, incidentally, he did. After about five more minutes of Draco and Granger bickering over the potion (which ended in Granger ordering Draco to not doing anything, since he'd just muck it up), Snape swooped down, yelled at Granger, and took ten points away from Gryffindor, much to Draco's delight.

Snape then came over and inspected Blaise's potion. He seemed slightly disappointed that Potter had managed to get the potion done correctly. Granger finally finished on her own, and (much to Blaise's and Snape's displeasure) had managed to do it perfectly.

Since he was done working on his potion and Potter had opted to do the clean up, Blaise decided to lean back and enjoy the furious but near silent fight between Draco and Granger, who were currently at each other's throats (albeit in whispers) in a clear battle to see who'd clean up.

"I did the whole thing myself, it's the least you could do!" Granger hissed.

"You're the one who told me to lay off, Mudblood! If you wanted it done yourself you should clean it up yourself too!"

Blaise felt quite sorry for Draco. It couldn't be easy working with that girl.

"Fine! I'll do it, if you shut up!" Draco finally said, in normal voice, startling the whole class, and causing Snape to glare at everyone some more –

She did it again!

Except, and this made Blaise very, very nervous, this time her furtive glance was directed at the back of Draco as he cleaned up. There was nothing for it; if Hermione Granger was looking at Draco Malfoy without glaring, something was seriously up. And the only reason Blaise could think of was that she heard their conversation last night.

Right?

No, there had to be another explanation. Blaise had been the second student in their year (three guess who was first) to master the '_silencio'_ way back when, so there was just zero chance that he had done it incorrectly last night. The only way Granger could have heard them was if she broke that spell, which she was certainly smart enough to do. But considering her hatred of Slytherins, why on earth would she actively try and overhear them? There was none.

_Well, _Blaise concluded, _she must just be PMSing. _


	7. Chapter 7

Hermione doodled a couple flowers on the edge of her parchment. It had been a month since the first meeting she took notes on, and she hadn't heard much since. Malfoy didn't have a lot of variety in his guests – it was always Crabbe, Goyle, or Zabini. He had had Pansy Parkinson over once – but Hermione had quickly stopped listening when it became clear that they weren't intending to do any talking (and Malfoy, ever the snob, always insisted on getting the common room whenever he had someone over instead of just going to his room).

Tonight was a Crabbe and Goyle night. These conversations were insanely difficult for Hermione to listen to, as they often consisted of Malfoy rambling on and on and the other two grunting their agreement to everything he said – a surefire way to lower one's IQ. And tonight's conversation was especially hard to listen to, as it was nothing about Malfoy going on about the Slytherin vs. Gryffindor Quidditch match that was taking place the next night. Hermione heard enough Quidditch talk from Harry and Ron, and while she greatly enjoyed watching as much as anyone else, it got quite old to hear about it all the time.

"There's no way I'm letting that blasted Potter beat me again. This year is my year," he was exclaiming arrogantly. Hermione rolled her eyes as either Crabbe or Goyle (or maybe both – it was hard to tell sometimes with those two) grunted. There was no way he'd beat Harry, and he should have known that by now.

"Of course, it's extra important that I win tomorrow, because Dumbledore has granted me special permission to visit my mother this weekend for her birthday, and I'm sure hearing that I finally beat that scar-head will be an extra little gift in itself," Draco said.

Hermione put aside her quill and threw away her blank (aside from the doodles) piece of parchment. If she were going to hear anything of use anytime soon, it would undoubtedly be after Malfoy visited home as opposed to before.

Deciding she was eavesdropped-out for the night, Hermione undid her charm on her door and happily pulled out her Arithmancy homework.

* * *

"Well, today's the first Quidditch match, Gryffindor vs. Slytherin," Luna Lovegood said dreamily into the loudspeaker. "I think they start with these same teams each year…and I think it's ended the same way each time, too." The Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs, and Ravenclaws cheered loudly at these words while the Slytherins made loud booing noises. Blaise sighed in exasperation. Why did this girl commentate the matches now? She was even worse than that kid with the dreadlocks!

Blaise wasn't a huge fan of Quidditch. He thought it was entertaining enough to watch, but he just never understood the huge excitement that came with it. And he supported Slytherin as much as any other Slytherin, but honestly, they always lost to Gryffindor. He knew if mentioned this to anyone he would probably have his head ripped off, but it was true. As long as Gryffindor had Potter on the team, it was pretty much a three-way race for second place.

Seriously, it was only ten minutes into the game and Gryffindor was already up by thirty points.

"I think I forgot to do my Divination homework…" Lovegood said.

Dear. Merlin.

Oh, 40-0. Blaise snorted. He'd like to win, of course, but it was such a forgone conclusion that he really couldn't muster up any real enthusiasm for this match.

And sure enough, Potter caught the Snitch about two minutes later.

* * *

There was always a celebration in the Gryffindor common room after they won a game, and the parties were loudest when they beat Slytherin. Tonight was no exception.

Hermione had wanted to skip this one, having experienced plenty of them already and wanting to do some homework, but Harry and Ron had convinced her to stay awhile. She was currently sitting near the fire with Ginny, Lavender, and Parvati discussing her living situation.

"I don't think I'd be able to do it, honestly," Parvati said with a scowl. "He's always been such an ass."

"And have you seen his hair? No boy should wear that much hair gel," Lavender said with a flip of her hair.

"What's it like, anyway?" Ginny asked.

"Well, I honestly don't see him that much if I can help it," Hermione admitted. "I don't even bother trying to sit in the common room, since he's always bringing his little friends over, so I mostly come here or stay in my room."

"Yeah, that's probably the best strategy for dealing with him. I'd do the same thing if I were in your position," Ginny said.

Parvati and Lavender nodded their agreement. "Yeah," Lavender said. "It's a pity they changed the rule this year, or you could have gotten away with just a few Head meetings."

"Yeah," Hermione said, thinking of her assignment involving Malfoy and scowling. "Pity."

"Hermione! Come have a Butterbeer!" Ron called from the other side of the common room. Bidding adieu to the girls, Hermione struggled through the excited crowd to Ron and Harry, who had broken off from the crowd and settled in a secluded corner.

"So, looking forward to a weekend without your lovely roommate?" Harry asked, handing Hermione a bottle of Butterbeer.

"You have no idea. A nice, quiet weekend sans Malfoy and his obnoxious visitors is going to be wonderful," Hermione sighed contentedly, leaning against the wall.

"Already planning your homework schedule?" Ron asked, grinning.

"Yes, and you should be, too!" Hermione said reprovingly. "It's N.E.W.T. year!"

"Sure, whatever," Ron said unconcernedly.

Hermione rolled her eyes and opened her Butterbeer. As usual, she seemed to be the only one who was concerned with being properly prepared for exams.

"Ugh!" Hermione choked on her drink. "This isn't Butterbeer! It's – it's – Firewhiskey!"

Harry and Ron laughed at her, at which point she started confiscating all the Butterbeer bottles in the room.

* * *

It had been the first real peaceful weekend Hermione had had so far. Unfortunately, Malfoy didn't decide to drop out of school upon his return home like Hermione had been vainly hoping for. She was relaxing on the couch in front of the fire when he made his return, Blaise Zabini in tow. They seemed to have been having a hushed conversation, and Hermione didn't wait for the hateful glares before departing for her bedroom – she was too interested in any juicy information to wait to get to eavesdropping.

"Rivalita!" She whispered at her door as soon as it had shut and dropping into her desk chair.

"…quite boring most of the time, really. My mother just wanted to talk academics, which of course bored my father – and myself – to tears," said Draco, his voice coming in so clear it was if he was sitting next to Hermione. "I mean, in the great scheme of what's happening in our world, who gives a flying fuck?"

"Was there anything that even made your little trip worthwhile? Sounds like a waste of 'special permission' to me," Blaise replied.

"Well, I did eavesdrop on quite an interesting tidbit of information," the arrogance in Draco's voice palpably increased. "According to my father, the Dark Lord is planning on taking out a key Dumbledore supporter. And not just any supporter – a teacher here at Hogwarts." Hermione's heart began to race; this was it, the type of information could be vital, the type that made this living ordeal necessary.

"When?" Blaise asked.

Hermione held her breath. "Over Christmas holiday, when all the kids are gone. The security may not lessen much, but it'll make it easier to get her when there're less obstacles."

"Is Snape going to do it? I mean, he's here in the castle already – he wouldn't have to try and break through all the protection around it," Blaise sounded almost as eager for information as Hermione was.

"As far as I heard, Snape's not even in on it. My father reckons the Dark Lord is growing suspicious, and he doesn't want any interference."

"Well who's the target?"

Hermione could barely hold her quill to the parchment her hand was shaking so much.

"McGonagall. Quite a blow to them, if you ask me," Draco said carelessly.

Hermione didn't even hear Blaise's response; she had shoved her parchment in her pocket and was carefully composing herself to appear nonchalant. This wasn't something that could wait – she had to go see Dumbledore immediately.

She half-expected Draco to cast her a suspicious glance as she opened her door and made her way across the room, but when she looked his way he merely rolled his eyes at her appearance and asked Blaise a question about Quidditch.

Hermione was so relieved that he didn't suspect her that she completely missed the suspicious glance that was cast at her – by Blaise.

* * *

_I knew it!_ Blaise thought fiercely as the door shut behind Granger. _She is listening in on us._

There was no other explanation for it. Sure, Draco might think it was a coincidence that Granger decided to go out right after he'd just been talking about a very secret, very important plan to murder the Deputy Headmistress, but Blaise didn't think so.

Why had Dumbledore decided to room the Head Boy and Girl in the same living quarters _this year_? Everyone knew the war was coming to a head, and everyone also knew that Draco and Granger were on complete opposite sides of said war. What if – _what if _– Draco and Granger had been roomed together like this for a purpose totally unrelated to inter-House cooperation, for something bigger?

And why had Granger been glancing so curiously so often at the both Blaise and Draco? It only ever happened on days directly after he had visited Draco in the Head's room.

He had no proof, only instinct – but he was absolutely sure that Granger had been eavesdropping on them moments ago, and not only then. She'd probably done so every night Blaise had visited, and undoubtedly any other time Draco entertained friends in his common room.

Citing homework that needed to be done, Blaise casually bid farewell to Draco and sauntered to the door. As soon as he was out of it, he ran.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: **Aha! It's been awhile since the last update, but I hope it's worth the wait. It's not as juicy as I would have liked, but that's partially due to my inability to write something that would just be stupid. I had to find a way to get Blaise and Hermione together in some way before anything...jucier...could happen, and I had to think long and hard for something that would actually work and be somewhat believable and not super anti-climactic. So I hope everyone likes it. If you don't, too bad. It's done.

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it ain't mine.

* * *

Blaise wasn't so much interested in catching her as he was in confirming that he was right. Sure, he should be worried about Granger informing Dumbledore of what she'd just overheard, but since he didn't care all that much about the war (unless it got him killed), he wasn't overly concerned.

_I know I'm right, _he thought as he ran up the corridor. _I know it, I know it, I know it._

He had a general idea where Dumbledore's office was, but he wasn't positive. He had to at least get within sight of Granger to see if she was headed there or Gryffindor tower, because if he missed this chance for confirmation he might just go insane with curiosity.

He sprinted up the stairs to the entrance hall and immediately looked towards the top of the next set of stairs. He spotted her walking briskly up the last few steps. Blaise waited until she disappeared around the corner before moving after her; she'd taken the way opposite of the direction of Gryffindor tower. As sure as he'd been that he was right, and even through the satisfying shock of seemingly being right, he still felt a little unsure – after all, he wasn't positive where Dumbledore's office was and for all he knew she was going somewhere else entirely. He had to know for sure…

Once he reached the top of the staircase, he carefully peered around the corner just in time to see her turning the next corner. Moving as quietly as he could manage, Blaise half-jogged down the corridor. He thought Dumbledore's office might be nearby now, but his idea of it's location was vague. He followed Granger around a few more corners before he saw the two stone gargoyles that marked the entrance to the Headmaster's office.

Blaise barely had time to register that Granger was nowhere to be seen before a fist collided with his face.

"FUCK!" He shouted, his hand flying to his mouth, which was now bleeding. He looked to see who his attacker was and was unsurprised to see Granger glaring at him.

"What are you doing?" She hissed, whipping her wand out and pointing it directly between his eyes. "Were you following me?"

"Um," Blaise stalled. Staring cross-eyed at the dangerous piece of wood being held a mere centimeter from his nose, he resigned himself to the fact that lying was probably not a good idea at the moment. "Um, yeah. I was following you."

"Why?" She demanded, poking his nose smartly with her wand.

Accepting the fact that there was going to be no use in trying to lie his way out of the situation, Blaise opted for the honest truth. "I'm not stupid, unlike you."

"Excuse me?"

"Well, come on! Draco lets slip some valuable information and three seconds later you rush out?" Blaise, seeing Granger's face transform from rage to shock, regained his composure. "Only an idiot wouldn't be able to put the pieces together. And, by the way, I was already onto you. You're quite obvious."

"I am NOT obvi –"

"Yeah, you are. God, all of the professors act like you're some fucking genius or something," Blaise sneered.

"You know what? I really don't care about anything you have to say. _Obliv_ –"

"Is there a problem here?" Dumbledore, appearing out of nowhere, interrupted Granger. Blaise felt his stomach drop. There was no way she wouldn't tell.

"He knows, sir! He knows what I've been doing!"

* * *

Hermione stood rigidly across from Dumbledore's desk. Blaise was seated next to her fidgeting anxiously, and Dumbledore was seated at his desk, as calm as always. It was all quite awkward.

"I think we should just erase his memory," Hermione said, breaking the silence. She knew it was extreme, but she honestly didn't think there was any other way to ensure Blaise didn't let Draco in on her recent eavesdropping.

"What? No way!" Blaise sputtered, leaning forward in his chair.

"Mr. Zabini, is there anything I can offer you in order for you keep your silence on this subject?" Dumbledore asked.

Blaise leaned back in his chair. Hermione couldn't read him; he just looked annoyed.

"Um, can't you just leave me alone?"

"Just leave you alone?" Dumbledore asked, seeming mildly surprised at his apathetic request.

"Yeah, I won't give her away – I don't really care about any of this, to be honest."

Dumbledore regarded Blaise over the top of his glasses with slightly raised eyebrows. Hermione couldn't believe her eyes – it actually looked like he was considering the "just leave me alone" as a suitable solution.

"Sir, I really don't think that's a good idea," Hermione interjected.

"I don't think it is either, Ms. Granger," Dumbledore replied, much to Hermione's relief, for once being glad she was wrong.

"What? You don't believe that I don't really care?" Blaise asked, seemingly getting more annoyed by the minute. "Do whatever you want – put a spell on me so I won't talk about this, it's that easy. I won't resist."

Hermione snorted. "As if you cou–"

"No," Dumbledore interrupted, letting a small smile grace as features as he leaned forward on his elbows. "No, I've thought of a better use for you."

_Well, this can't be good,_ Hermione thought, knowing something that would greatly piss her off was about to come. She looked over at Blaise, who now just looked incredibly anxious, and not in the good way. Then she looked at Dumbledore. She did not in any way shape or form like the way he seemed be glancing between her and Blaise with that up-to-no-good smile on his face.

* * *

_That did not happen. That did NOT happen. THAT DID NOT HAPPEN! _Blaise could barely see straight as he walked back to the Slytherin common room.

Granger had stayed behind to discuss what she had overheard, but Blaise was definitely not going to hang around after Dumbledore decided to drop that insane bomb on them. He had been planning on insisting Granger fix up his bloody lip just out of spite (it didn't really hurt that much anymore), but one more minute in that room…

Blaise didn't stop to talk to anyone in the common room. He glanced around long to enough to gladly note that all his roommates were down here and not in the dorm – he wanted to fume and he didn't want anyone to interrupt his fuming.

Dumbledore had decided to what to do about the situation, and it was a pissy solution in Blaise's mind. Granger hadn't looked to crazy about it either. No doubt Dumbledore thought he was having one of his moments of whimsical brilliance. Well, Blaise for one sure didn't think it was that brilliant. If anything it was downright cruel to both him AND Granger.

The last thing he wanted was to be dragged into any part of this war. It was the last thing his mother wanted for him. And now he had no choice.

It wasn't the part about keeping an ear out for more information from Draco that bothered him. It wasn't the part about having to report to Dumbledore any of that information that bothered him.

It was the part about being partnered as a fucking spy with Granger for the Order of the fucking Phoenix that bothered him.

_Partners._ Blaise fumed in his empty dorm. _Spy partners. _

_Disgusting._

* * *

**Author's Note:** Dum dum dum...just kidding, it's not as BAM!shocking as I wanted, but it's something. As for the next update, well, um, the thing is...I started writing this before I finished planning, and chapter 7 was as far as I'd planned. This chapter was a as-it-came-to-me deal. I still knew where I wanted to go, but I hadn't figured how to get there. So now I'm actually going to plan the rest of the story before I finish it (hopefully). It could be awhile...but then again, it could be a few days. My muses work in mysterious ways.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: Hey, kiddos. I'm back!**

**As usual, it's been a good chunk of time since my last update. But - again, as usual - I felt inspired to crank something out while I should have been working on a paper. Honestly, if you had to work on a paper that HAD to be about something to do with 20th century Kentucky history, you'd be procrastinating too. **

**Anyway, I hope you all enjoy!**

* * *

Hermione couldn't do much but stare at her bedroom ceiling. Her mind was currently in overdrive, preventing her from doing much of anything.

She was utterly confused at what had just transpired not half an hour ago. _Spies? Really_? They were kids, what the hell did Dumbledore think they could do that would be worth anything?

And everything had to be totally secret. Hermione wasn't even allowed to tell Harry and Ron that Blaise Zabini was now, essentially, her partner in not-very-criminal-but-close-enough crime. Part of the deal was that _no one _else would know that Blaise would be working for the Order. There was also something about keeping his mother out of anything, but Hermione hadn't really been listening to that part, since she was sure it was just thrown in to give Blaise a reason to say yes.

The entire arrangement seemed largely useless to Hermione. Seriously, how much did Dumbledore think Slytherin kids knew, anyway? The whole thing seemed to hinge on Malfoy flapping his gums to Blaise about the whole McGonagall ordeal, in which Blaise was to tell Hermione who was to tell Dumbledore – why not just have Zabini tell Dumbledore himself? And honestly, she hadn't had a problem with getting information from Malfoy on her own. Well, aside from Blaise figuring her out. But still!

Hermione couldn't help but feel Dumbledore meant the middleman situation was a way to get them communicating more in a sad effort to force friendship. Again, that seemed pretty damn worthless. And also impossible. Hermione's best friend was Blaise's best friend's arch nemesis of sorts. It was just so…misguided.

That thought was annoying enough, but Hermione had an even worse feeling that Dumbledore had more in mind that he had yet to fill her in on yet. After dismissing her so he could immediately meet with McGonagall, Snape, and Hagrid, Dumbledore had done that penetrating gaze thing and told her, "I'm sure you'll come up with something."

Hermione scowled and shoved a pillow onto her face. Dumbledore was a genius, yes, but he certainly had far too much fun dishing out ambiguous tasks on kids.

* * *

The next day passed by in a blur for Blaise. He hadn't slept much the night before, so his mind was just up to the task of paying much attention in classes. Now, the thing he had been dreading all day was upon him.

Usually when he got little sleep the day went by really slow. But Blaise had resigned himself to the fact that he had to meet with Granger this evening. She hadn't asked him to, but he'd rather meet with her on his own accord rather than wait for her to send him some nagging note – or worse, have Dumbledore nag him. That would just be kind of embarrassing.

As it were, Blaise was now standing outside of the Heads dormitories (he wasn't worried about Draco, as he was off at Quidditch practice). He had been standing there for a few minutes already, mentally bracing himself for what would inevitably be a highly unpleasant experience – for both of them, no doubt.

He really had no idea what to say. He had tried to plan something to say all day, but was too frustrated over the whole seemingly pointless arrangement to think clearly enough to come up with anything. After all, Dumbledore hadn't exactly given him a set task or anything, just some bullshit about listening very carefully to Draco. Listen for what? The boy very rarely said anything of value, just fluffed up stuff to sound important. Well, the McGonagall thing was an exception. But that was what Granger was for! Why couldn't she just keep listening herself? She'd apparently been doing it since the beginning of the year and it clearly had some value, so Blaise saw no point in modifying that system.

Blaise had absolutely no clue what he was even supposed to do with her. 'Spy' was just so vague…spy on what? How were they even supposed to go about spying on anyone? As far as Blaise knew, they were mostly just keeping tabs on Draco (which, again, was _already being done!_) And for crying out loud, WHAT did Dumbledore even think two teenagers were going to get from this 'spying' that would even be valuable? Yeah, they were of age, but they were still in school, still kids.

And uncooperative kids at that. Seriously, how did Dumbledore expect them to get the most menial task done? They weren't exactly at the level of animosity of, say, Potter and Malfoy, but they weren't exactly chums either. They were like…mutual annoyances.

Blaise sighed. Hoping that Dumbledore had told Granger something more specific after he had stormed out of the office, he knocked.

* * *

Hermione had been so surprised to see Blaise on the other side of the door that she let him in without saying a thing. He seemed so shocked to be allowed to enter that he didn't say anything either. It was extremely awkward.

It stayed awkward. After the two placed themselves comfortably far apart (Blaise seated stiffly on the couch and Hermione standing nervously by the fire), neither seemed willing to start a conversation. Awkward glances, awkward fidgeting, and awkward silence ensued.

After about five of the most awkward minutes that ever existed, Hermione decided it was time to say…well, she wasn't sure what she was going to say. Dumbledore needed her to do this, and she couldn't let the fact that she felt very uncomfortable with her new mission get in the way of doing the job entrusted to her.

Hermione cleared her throat, causing Zabini – who had been carefully studying the couch fabric – to flinch in surprise at the sudden loss of silence. "Well, um, I think we ought to discuss what Dumbledore's asked us to do –"

"Actually, I have a better idea. You think of something, do it yourself, and tell Dumbledore I helped you," Blaise snapped. "In fact, you don't even have to tell me the plan. I'd rather not know."

Hermione scowled. "I don't think so. He asked us _both _to do this, so that's how it's going to work."

"I don't care. I'm not doing anything."

"Yes, you are!" Hermione said angrily.

"No, I'm not. I don't want to."

"Why? Afraid it's going to mess up your future Death Eater career path?"

Blaise stood up, his features turning from annoyance to anger. "No, you stupid wench. As much as it pains me to ruin your preconceived notions of who I am, that is _not _what I'm afraid of."

"You could have fooled me," Hermione said coolly.

"It's not my fault you're so quick to judge," Blaise growled.

"Then why are you so reluctant to do this?"

"For your information, I was actually hoping to stay out of this whole mess."

Hermione blinked. She hadn't been expecting that answer.

Blaise just sneered.

"You want to stay out of it? But I thought –"

"Yeah, I know what you thought. You thought I was some big bad Slytherin scum who had no interest other than getting some blasted skull and snake tattoo on his arm?"

"That's certainly the image you've painted of yourself," Hermione replied, folding her arms. "Are you telling me you just don't care one way or the other?"

"No, I'm telling you I don't want to get involved."

"But you sympathize with Voldemort?" Hermione inwardly grinned with satisfaction as Blaise flinched a bit at the name.

"Well yeah, I'd rather not have a bunch of dead friends at the end of all this."

Hermione felt her anger returning. "So your plan was let your friends die while you sit back and wish them luck? That is the most deplorable thing I have ever heard!"

"What do you mean _was_? That's still my plan!"

"Like hell it is!" Hermione, incensed, stomped around the coffee table and jabbed a finger into Blaise's chest. "Since you're so unwilling to help _your _friends, you're going to help _mine_. I don't care that you want to stay out of it just to save your own skin. You _are _going to help, whether you like it or not!"

Blaise stared at her, eyes widened in surprise at having a finger poking him (quite roughly) in the chest. "But –"

"No, there will be none of that from her on out, got it? Dumbledore entrusted this job to us and I'm not going to let your disgusting apathy derail this mission," Hermione hissed, pulling her hand away, feeling confident she had just won the argument.

"Fine," Blaise grumbled in defeat. "But you still have to think of what to do."

"I am _not _going to let you sit back and let me do all the work!" Hermione poked him the chest again. "We're _both _supposed to –"

"Okay, I got it! Quit poking me!"

Hermione pulled her hand back again, just barely avoiding being slapped. After an obligatory glare, she returned to her spot next to the fire.

"Alright, Granger, got any bright ideas?"

As if on cue, the portrait swung open and Draco Malfoy strutted into the common room. Catching sight of his mate seemingly in conversation with his sworn enemy, Malfoy stopped in his tracks.

"Did I interrupt something?"

Hermione ignored him and looked back to Blaise. "I do now."

"Do what? What's going on here?" Malfoy looked quizzically between Blaise and Hermione.

"Nothing. I was just waiting for you to get back," Blaise smoothly replied.

Malfoy still looked suspicious. "Blaise, why are you even talking to _her_?"

"You know I'm standing right here, Malfoy," Hermione scowled at him.

"Do I look like I care? Don't you have some homework due next month to be working on?"

Hermione just rolled her eyes and made her way to her room, plans already swirling in her mind.

* * *

_What a night!_ Blaise collapsed on his bed.

It had taken some smoothing over to get Malfoy to shut up about him daring to speak to Granger, but eventually Malfoy just said "Whatever" and started talking about Quidditch.

_Granger. _Blaise rolled into his stomach and buried his face in his pillow. He didn't know how was going to survive working with something so annoyingly determined. That bitch had officially ruined all his carefully laid plans to stay out of this war, and he was beyond annoyed about it all.

He hadn't expected his apathy to anger her so much. If anything, he would have thought she'd be relieved that he wasn't planning on joining up with a group of pureblood fanatics trying to kill her and all her friends, but that didn't seem to be the case with her. Apparently she wasn't a huge fan of self-preservation. It was so…Gryffindor of her. Now, instead of sitting back and making sure to save his own skin, he was going to end up helping Harry Potter. The thought made him want to gag.

Blaise had – though he would never admit it – actually felt a little frightened by Granger's righteous determination to get him to agree to work with her. In fact, he was pretty sure he had a bruise where she had kept poking him. There was no way he was going to wiggle his way out of this ordeal.

And now he was stuck in some mission to thwart an assassination attempt on McGonagall. He had no idea how they were going to go about it – it's not like they were even allowed to leave school grounds. Dumbledore could always end up making an exception because of their special mission, but that would just prove that he was a raving lunatic. Blaise much preferred the idea of having a useless mission safely inside of Hogwarts than a legitimately dangerous mission off the grounds.

And what had Granger meant when she said 'I do now' as soon as Malfoy walked in? There was no way it could be anything good. If the sight of Malfoy inspired assassination-thwarting plans, there was something seriously wrong with that girl's brain.

Blaise was very much regretting following Granger on her way to Dumbledore's office. None of this would have happened if it hadn't been for his curiosity.

* * *

**Eh? Any good? Feel free to let me know!**

**You know how it goes. It'll probably be a while until I update again. I know it's annoying since my chapters aren't even that long, but I can't force myself to write faster or longer. I stop chapters when it feels right. And yes, I have a plan laid out for this story, so it's not like I'm just writing by whim, so no worries there. **

**I have a new story (a Dramione) that I've started. No, it won't affect this story's progress. No, I don't know when the first chapter will go up. Yes, it's going to be awesome. **

**But back to this story - my muses returned after skimming through my very supportive reviews. After reading your kind words of encouragement, I suddenly felt my inspiration returning and went to write. Just a hint.**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/n: Well, what do you know? Two chapters in one night? Who would have thought! The argumentative meeting in the last chapter kicked my ass (one of the reasons it took so long to update - my muses had to be in extra high gear to get that done), but this one flowed right out. Don't get used to it!**

**Disclaimer: You know the drill. If you recognize it, it's not mine. Only thing that's mine is the plot.**

* * *

M has rounds tonight from 9-12.

Hermione stared at her parchment. It had been two days since the explosive meeting with Zabini. She didn't want to wait too long to inform Blaise of her newly formed plan, so she had been reluctantly pleased to remember Malfoy had rounds tonight. It was an ideal opportunity that she couldn't pass up just because she was uncomfortable working with such an apathetic bastard.

After all, Dumbledore had sent her an owl the previous night with some information that was sure to be a hint for something he wanted her to arrange. Or, at least she thought so…it was quite useless information to her otherwise. And it really did fit right in with the thought she

She sighed. Her plan was probably much too far-fetched for him to agree to it – hell, it was so far-fetched and dangerous that she almost wanted to pretend she hadn't thought og it – but at least it was something.

Resigned to the fact that there was no turning back, Hermione rolled up her parchment and stuck it in her bag. Now the trick would be inconspicuously delivering the note to Blaise. Her first choice would have been by owl, but she didn't fancy the idea of anyone looking over his shoulder and asking why he was receiving Malfoy's rounds schedule.

Instead, she was going to pull the totally cliché route of 'accidentally' bumping into Blaise and slipping the note into a textbook that she oh-so-kindly picked up for him.

Bracing herself for what was going to be an incredibly awkward (and incredibly staged) accident, Hermione grabbed her schoolbag and headed to class.

Five minutes later, Hermione was anxiously standing outside of the Arithmancy classroom. There were about ten minutes until the class started, and Blaise usually got there five minutes early.

Sure enough, a few minutes later Hermione spotted Blaise mercifully walking by himself towards down the hall. Quickly opening her schoolbag, Hermione (feeling unbelievably silly), gasped and exclaimed quite louder than necessary that she'd forgotten her textbook.

Ignoring Ernie Macmillan's insistence that she could share with him for the class, Hermione rushed off, seemingly still looking through her schoolbag as she walked when really she was grabbing the note she was about to slip while carefully looking up just enough to see where Blaise was. When she was sure she was only just to the right of his path, she suddenly swerved under the pretext of having spotted that her textbook was indeed in her bag (with a relieved "I'm so stupid!" uttered in a carefully agitated voice) and knocked Blaise right off his feet. _Whoopsie…_

"Jesus, Granger!" He angrily ground out, sitting up and rubbing his elbow.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't see you! I'm a huge spaz, I swear. Oh, here's your textbook. Oh my gosh, I'm sorry!" Hermione inwardly cringed at her false apologies, but was also quite satisfied that her ridiculous scheme had worked. She'd snatched up his Arithmancy textbook as soon as she'd pretended to fall to the ground alongside Blaise, and had smoothly slipped the rolled up parchment into the front cover.

"Yeah, whatever. Just…ugh."

Hermione pretended to sheepishly watch Blaise storm off into the classroom while still rubbing his elbow, not feeling at all sheepish.

Allowing Ernie to help her up and muttering about how she could have missed her textbook sitting right in her bag, Hermione followed Blaise into class.

* * *

_Stupid Mudblood…not paying any attention…damn, that's gonna be bruised…  
_

Blaise was not happy about Granger bowling him over in the hall. His elbow was sore and he was becoming increasingly agitated at her new habit of physically harming him, even if it was unintentional.

Throwing an angry glare at her, he yanked his textbook out of his back and made sure to slam it on the table just so she'd know how annoyed he was.

Blaise felt like glaring at her again, and was unsurprised to find her looking his way – most of the students were looking his way, probably due to his little tantrum. She didn't look very contrite, though. In fact, she looked a little expectant.

Feeling more annoyed – _that bitch! _– Blaise opened his book to find a flattened piece of rolled up parchment inside. Huh?

Reading over the note that had obviously been left by Granger, he now understood why she had randomly knocked him over in the hall. Good god, couldn't she have just dropped it on his desk as she walked past?

Pointedly rubbing his sore elbow, he glared at her again only to find that she was no longer looking at him, apparently having stopped watching him as soon as he'd found the parchment.

Blaise sighed as he slipped the note into his pocket. He was not particularly happy about having to go meet with Granger again, but he knew if he tried to get out of it she would probably break his kneecaps.

* * *

Blaise knocked on the portrait hole leading to the Head's quarters. He'd waited under a nearby alcove until Draco left to do rounds and waited a few minutes just to be safe before approaching the portrait.

"I think you should give me the password," Blaise muttered as soon as Granger opened the door. Pushing past her (his elbow had, indeed, bruised), he turned to see what was sure to be a 'you wish' reaction.

"It's 'spattergroit,'" she said, seemingly unfazed. Blaise raised his eyebrows, surprised that she hadn't protested and refused. "Don't look at me like that. It's not a big deal."

"If you say so," Blaise shrugged, moving over to sit on the couch. "Oh, and smooth work slipping me that note, by the way. It's not like falling onto concrete floors hurts or anything."

Hermione ignored him and sat in the arm chair by the couch. "Do you want to hear my idea or are you going to complain like some child all night?"

"All I'm saying is that you could have just dropped it on my desk. You can't just knock me over every time you're in want of my presence."

Blaise smirked as Hermione's cheek flushed. "I wasn't _in want _of your pres–"

"It was a joke," Blaise interrupted, feeling quite amused. "Just tell me your stupid plan so I can veto it, alright?"

"I don't think you're going to like it, but you're not going to veto it."

"You're right on one part – I'm definitely not going to like it."

"Will you please just listen?"

Blaise glared at her. He knew he wasn't going to like whatever it was that came out of her mouth next, and he wanted to make sure she was aware of that fact.

"It involves Malfoy," she said tentatively, as if she were nervous he was going to explode at her.

He had suspected she was going to say something like that, but it still didn't prepare Blaise for the sinking feeling in his stomach. "And how does it involve him, exactly?"

"Well…you know how Malfoy sometimes leaves on the weekends?"

"Wait, what? You can't leave Hogwarts on the weekends!" Blaise sat up straight, feeling quite surprised at this news. Since when did Malfoy leave on the weekends? And since when did Granger and not any of his friends know about it?

"Well, it's all part of the plan. Dumbledore allowed Malfoy certain privileges this year under the pretense of family influence or some other hogwash, and one of those privileges is being allowed to secretly leave school grounds when his mother sends an owl requesting his presence. The idea is that he finds out information when he's home and then I can listen in when he talks about it to his friends in here."

Blaise just stared at her, mouth hanging open. Privileges?

"So I was think–"

"Hold on," Blaise interjected, finally having gotten over the initial shock that Draco had seemingly been allowed a ridiculous amount of freedoms this year. "Privileges? What are these other privileges?"

He noticed that she shifted uncomfortably at this question, not meeting his eye. "Well, obviously, this arrangement with the Head Boy and Girl sharing living quarters was put in place specially for this plan, and next year they're going to do away with it with the excuse that it just resulted in horrendous disagreements."

"I was wondering why they did that this year," Blaise exclaimed, his head spinning. "Anything else?"

"Oh, well, I'm really not supposed to say the rest," she said, looking really uncomfortable.

"What happened to the whole 'we have to do this together' bit, eh? If I have to work with you on this, I have more than a right to know all of this stuff!"

"I know, it's just…well, he wasn't supposed to be Head Boy this year. They changed their pick so that I would be able to keep tabs on him."

Blaise felt his mouth hanging open again. Granger looked at him anxiously, clearly not wanting to go on and tell him the information he was now desperate to discover.

"Well, who was?"

"Who was what?"

"Don't stall – who was supposed to be Head Boy?"

She stared at her hands again, fidgeting nervously. "I, um, I don't know."

"Bullshit," Blaise growled. It was written all over her face that she was lying. "You know, and you're going to tell me."

"Well, McGonagall said it was – it was supposed to be you." She'd said it so quietly that Blaise had to strain to hear her.

But he'd heard alright.

_I knew it._

Blaise sat back on the couch, feeling both immensely satisfied that he had in fact been first choice as Head Boy and quite pissed off that circumstances had stolen the title from him.

The satisfaction left his system remarkably quickly to make way for the anger. He knew it wasn't Draco's fault that he'd been awarded Head Boy because of his part in a plan that he knew nothing about, but he couldn't help but feel angry at his old friend.

Dammit! He'd tried and failed to convince Draco to wait until they were officially done with Hogwarts to get involved with the Death Eaters, and now he wished he'd tried harder. He'd been so fucking close, only to be thwarted by his friend's desperate need for his parent's approval.

Blaise knew he was being selfish. It was just a badge, after all…but he felt the urge to pay Draco back in favor – by thwarting his sodding excuse for a father. As much he wished he could take it out on Draco, he knew it wasn't really his fault. Lucius Malfoy, on the other hand, deserved retribution. He really was a bastard – as hard as Draco tried to get his approval, he tried even harder to raise his expectations too high for his son to reach. Blaise wasn't stupid – every time Draco attempted to gain favor there was always something he did wrong, and Blaise could easily infer that the 'something' was always an afterthought that Lucius threw in just to make Draco feel like a failure.

Lucius Malfoy's pathological need to make his son feel like shit had cost Blaise the position he'd wanted so badly. He had to pay. If it meant Blaise jumping over to Potter's fucking side of things, so be it. If he had to take Draco with him…well, that would be something, wouldn't it?

"What's your plan?"

* * *

Hermione jumped, startled at the sudden question. Blaise had been sitting in silence for a few minutes now, clearly working through all the information she'd revealed to him.

"Oh! Well, if you're sure you want to hear it…"

"Trust me when I say I'm sure."

Hermione was quite puzzled at his sudden enthusiasm. She had to assume it had something to do with being pissed about not getting Head Boy like he should have because of this whole elaborate plan, but she wasn't about to ask. He looked pretty angry, and she wasn't about to allow an opportunity for him to take his anger out on her.

"I don't know if you remember, but awhile ago Malfoy talked to you about plans to form a sort of student uprising against Dumbledore–"

"I remember."

"Well, I'm sure he would only have any success with some of the Slytherins who would be too cowardly to do anything anyway, but I thought it might be a good idea if you found a way to dissuade him from doing that. I'm not positive it's connected to the plot to murder Professor McGonagall, but it very well could be. Would you be willing to consid–"

"I'll do it."

Hermione stared at him. He still looked pretty angry. "There's more."

"Fine. What else?"

"Er, well, I thought maybe while you were trying to do that, you could somehow get him to invite you on one of his weekend getaways."

Now it was Blaise's turn to stare at her. "Why would I want to visit his mum with him?"

"Well, Dumbledore sent me on owl last night saying that Snape told him the Malfoys were planning some huge ball in a couple weeks, so I thought it might be worthwhile for you to get invited and see if you could catch anything. I'm sure with that many Death Eaters at one gathering that there would be talk."

"Deal. That's easy – Draco's been trying to suck me into that group for ages," Blaise said, rolling his eyes.

"Um, well there's more. See, Harry has this invisibility cloak. I was thinking that I would use it to go along with you two. The more eyes and ears the better…that's the idea, anyway."

Blaise looked a little apprehensive. "That sounds a little risky. I don't think Dumbledore would like one of his special pets putting herself in such a dangerous environment."

"I wouldn't tell him until after. Besides, I think that's what he was hoping I'd do when he sent me that note, only he didn't say it because he has this thing about us – that is to say, Harry, Ron and I – figuring out what to do on our own…" Hermione trailed off at the look on Blaise's face, like she'd grown a second nose or something similar.

"Damn…he really is loony."

"He's a genius. He's never led us wrong before," Hermione replied coolly. She was well aware that Dumbledore was kind of loony sometimes, but she felt like only those who knew his madness was just brilliance in disguise should be allowed to say so.

"Yeah, encouraging his favorite students to put themselves in life or death situations sounds like real genius to m-"

"Are you in?"

Hermione could tell Blaise thought she – as well as Dumbledore, Harry, and Ron – were all barking mad. And okay, maybe there was _some _truth to that, but in times like these you really did have to take risks, something they were all willing to do.

"Alright, I'm in. But don't blame me when Bellatrix Lestrange steps on your invisible hem and kills you."

* * *

**A/N: And there you have it. Seriously, don't expect another update as soon as this one came. Like I said, I have the plot planned out until the end of the story, but I let the detail fill themselves in as I write. That being said, something like this Death Eater ball extravaganza needs some extra planning, so I have to do that before I can even think about writing the chapter. Yeah, I'm definitely kicking myself for writing "Death Eater ball" in my outline and not doing a branch off to the side to plan what is going to be one of the major events of the story. Whoopsie!**

**You know how it goes. Reviews = inspiration!**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: I'm really spoiling you guys with all these updates. But your reviews are like crack - I want them so bad that I just have to keep going!**

* * *

After a terrible night's rest, Blaise was still pissed.

He was so, so pissed.

Draco Malfoy really did seem to have it made this year.

Blaise got a very, very small amount of satisfaction from knowing that all these special privileges were actually working against Draco in the long run…but it was a very, very small amount. After all, that little shit got to enjoy all these perks while being blissfully ignorant of the big picture.

He knew Draco had left for a weekend trip with 'special permission' once this year for his mother's birthday, but he didn't realize that the dumbfuck actually got to leave whenever his mum asked for him, even if was just for lazy Sunday tea. That was a ludicrous privilege. If Blaise didn't know the circumstances he would have filed a formal complaint against the school.

Blaise glared at everyone he walked past on his way to breakfast.

When he spotted Malfoy at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall he was tempted to turn around and leave. But he didn't. He just glared at the badge pinned to the front of the robes with absurd intensity.

"What's wrong with you?" Draco asked him as he sat down across from Pansy (who looked ridiculous, for she'd recently taken it upon herself to examine Draco's split ends).

"Headache," he grunted, giving the Head Boy badge another death glare before grabbing a piece of toast.

"Pity. Well, as I was saying, I was halfway through my Transfiguration essay when some stupid Hufflepuff tripped and spilled his ink bottle all over my parchment!"

"How terrible! Did you hex him?" Pansy cooed, still examining the ends of Draco's hair.

"No, that vulture of a librarian was watching. I just took ten points off instead."

"I would have taken more than that. You know that sixth year Hufflepuff, Shelby White? Well, that bitch had the nerve to tell me my hair-"

"That's great, but back to me…"

Blaise stopped listening. He needed new friends.

He glanced over to the Gryffindor table. Granger was chatting animatedly with Potter. She was a weird one, for sure.

Her whole plan seemed wholly unsafe. He'd agreed to it in the heat of anger, not stopping to think how stupid it all was. Did she really think it was a good idea for someone like her to just sneak into a giant Death Eater ball? The girl was supposed to be smart and this plan reeked of stupidity.

Seeming to sense his train of thought, the Head Girl suddenly looked directly at him, raising an eyebrow at catching him watching him. He just shook his head and went back to his toast.

He was going to have to convince her to abandon this plan.

Suddenly feeling like it was very urgent to do just that, he looked back at Granger in the hopes of catching her eye. It was his lucky day – after a few seconds, she looked back at him, and he pretended to scratch his ear while jerking his head the slightest bit in the direction of the doors. Without waiting for her response, he uttered an obligatory bye to his housemates and strode out of the Great Hall.

The Entrance Hall was currently empty, but Blaise didn't fancy his friends walking out of breakfast to find him in deep conversation with a girl they all hated, so he stalked off to the farthest corner, just right of a staircase.

He wasn't surprised when Granger came into the Entrance Hall a few moments later. Unfortunately, she wasn't stupid enough to miss the hint and save him from what was surely going to be an argument. It took her a few moments, but she finally spotted him in his shadowy corner.

"What?" She hissed, stepping into the shadows with him, nervously looking over her shoulder.

"Your plan sucks, that's what."

Granger's mouth fell open.

"I'm serious. It's a terrible idea."

"It is not a terrible idea!" She said, puffing up indignantly.

"Yeah, it is. Well, at least for you it is," he said, scowling down at her.

"Why, because it's dangerous? You have no idea how many dangerous situations I've been in. I think I can handle myself."

"This is different-"

"How?"

Blaise blinked down at her as if she were highly stupid. "Because it's the Malfoy Manor, that's why."

Blaise sharply looked over head, his heart skipping as he saw Crabbe and Goyle exiting the Great Hall. Not wanting to be seen, Blaise grabbed Granger's arm and pulled her with him under the staircase. "Crabbe and Goyle" he muttered at her.

She looked at appalled at just having been roughly pulled under a staircase by a Slytherin, but didn't say anything. She glared at him as she shook her arm out of his hand.

Waiting until he heard Goyle's guffaws retreating down the passage towards the dungeons, Blaise went on the attack again. "Think of a new plan."

"No," she shot back immediately.

"You don't understand, this place is seriously dangerous for muggleborns-"

"No, _you _don't understand. Listen, Zabini: _you have no idea what I've done_."

Blaise glared down at her. She glared back. "Granger, this is diff-"

"It is not different. I know what I'm doing, okay? So stop trying to talk me out of it!" She looked as if she were barely able to keep her voice down. She looked like she was almost insulted that he thought it was too dangerous, and she was glaring at him even more fiercely than she already had been.

"Fine," Blaise ground out. He glared back at her, vaguely aware of the rush of air against his neck as she breathed in relief.

"Now that that's settled, I really do need get to class," Granger said, immediately reverting to nose-in-the-air form. "Oh, and don't forget to get yourself invited to that stupid ball. It would be really annoying if I had to put up with all of your whining only to have you drop the ball."

Blaise glared at her she haughtily sniffed in disdain and pushed past him to briskly walk across the Hall.

Stupid Gryffindor.

Feeling as if he'd just wasted a good ten minutes of his life, Blaise stormed out from under the staircase towards the dungeons, rubbing he neck as he went.

* * *

"They're dead. They don't stand a chance. I mean, you almost want to ask why the hell they're even bothering to get involved, don't you?"

Harry snorted at Ron's blasé speech about the pointlessness of the Hufflepuff Quidditch squad.

"Ron, just because they're not as good as we are doesn't mean you have to put them down like that," Hermione scolded, throwing Ron a condescending look over her Ancient Runes book.

"Come on, Hermione! They're dreadful – worse than usual, I mean."

Hermione rolled her eyes at him and went back to her book.

"I feel like you've been reading that same page for hours now," Harry said, giving Hermione a quizzical look.

Hermione silently cursed. Was Harry usually this observant? She really had been looking at the same page for quite awhile now – her thoughts were all on her plan to crash a Death Eater ball, not Ancient Runes.

"Yeah, we're covering some really hard material," Hermione fibbed quickly, using her book to hide her reddening face.

"That sucks," Ron said, looking delighted at the idea of Hermione not breezing through her homework for once.

"Yeah, it's pretty hard," Hermione replied, an idea quickly forming in her mind. "We have this huge project due next month, and it's going to be the death of me, I swear!" Sighing dramatically (or at least she hoped), she put her book down to massage her temples.

"I'd offer you help, but I honestly don't think I'd be able to help all that much," Harry said sheepishly, not looking one bit sorry that he would be unable to help her.

"Thanks, I think. The worst part is the amount of research we have to do! I've already checked out as many books as you're allowed, and Pince is breathing down my neck to make sure I don't stay in the library past curfew."

"How does your teacher expect everyone to get the work done if you need more books than you're allowed to check out?" Harry asked, being annoyingly astute again.

"Oh, well, you know me. I like to make sure everything is right," Hermione lied, throwing in a self-deprecating shrug for good measure. "It's just annoying that curfew of all things is threatening to derail my work – if I could just get a few late nights in the library I'm sure I wouldn't be worrying as much."

"You know, you _could _stay as late as you want, if you ask nicely," Harry whispered conspiratorially, sending Hermione a wicked grin. Ah, just the reaction she'd been hoping for!

"Are you sure? I mean, it's kind of trivial…"

"No, really. I don't really need it at the moment. It's all yours!"

Hermione beamed at Harry, feeling a twinge of guilt at having to lie to her friends.

* * *

"Granger, we have a problem."

The Head Girl jumped about three feet in the air and nearly fell into the bookcase as Blaise came up and hissed in her ear.

Knowing he'd probably find her in the library since she wasn't in the Head's quarters where he'd been talking to Draco, Blaise had rushed there as soon as he'd finished getting himself invited to the ball.

He knew she probably wanted to scold him for waiting three days to get back to her on progress, but he had no interest in hearing it. He'd been willing to go along with her plan, but there was no way they could do it anymore. No. Way.

"What is it? Are you afraid Dumbledore won't let you go with Malfoy? I already asked about it and said it was fine. Fine for you, of course, because I didn't include the bit about me tagging along," she said quietly, throwing him an annoyed look before scanning the aisle to make sure no one else was around to listen. "Did Malfoy say you couldn't go?"

"No, he said I could go. But there is no way in hell you can go."

"Not this again!" She said, flaring up immediately.

"I'm serious – you can't get in."

She blinked up at him. "Can't get in?"

"That's what I said, isn't it?"

"How can I not get in? Do they have some wards system preventing muggleborns from entering their sodding manor?"

"Something like that. They have wards that identify entering muggleborns through their wands."

Blaise felt a sick sense of satisfaction as worry spread over Granger's face. It really did take a ridiculous level of danger to put her off, didn't it?

"We can still do it," she whispered, straightening her shoulders and looking absolutely resolute in her decision to be stupid.

"Are you shitting me, Granger? You're really going to walk into a Death Eater bash without any sort of weapon to save yourself if you get caught under your stupid cloak?"

"I will have a weapon," she said quietly, her eyes sparkling with insanity. At least that's what Blaise thought it was, because this girl was clearly insane.

"What? What kind of weapon could you possibly have that could replace your wand?" Blaise demanded, thinker her more insane by the second.

"Did Malfoy go to bed?"

"I think so, why?"

"Come with me."

Without waiting for his reply, she took off down the aisle towards the library doors.

Blaise let out a frustrated sigh. There was no way this was going to end well.

Sighing again, he took off after her.

Making sure to keep a healthy distance, Blaise quietly trotted through the halls towards the Head's quarters. She was waiting in front of the portrait hole, annoyingly tapping her foot in impatience.

"Don't give me that, Granger, you know I had to keep some distance."

"Whatever. Wait here, I need to check to make sure Malfoy's in his room. She disappeared through the portrait hole, shutting it behind her.

Blaise couldn't help but feel a bit excited as he stared at the portrait hole, waiting for it to open again. He really was quite curious as to what kind of weapon she could have that made her so confident.

The portrait swung back open. "Come on," she whispered.

Blaise quickly climbed through the portrait hole, nervously glancing at Draco's bedroom door before following Granger towards her room.

This was bizarre. He never would have thought he'd ever venture into Hermione Granger's bedroom. It was all just very weird. Giving himself a mental shake and throwing one last nervous look towards Draco's door, he followed her into her bedroom.

It was indecently organized. Well, he would have expected as much. It was Granger, after all.

She shut the door behind him and cast a silencing charm on the room. "Over here," she said, motioning him over to the chest at the foot of her bed. Blaise felt his adrenaline starting to rise as she kneeled to open the truck.

"See, I've got some cousins in America that are kind of crazy, real hardcore conservative types. My parents went ballistic when they sent me this as a gift, but I persuaded them to let me keep it, 'cause I figured it could come in handy. And Dumbledore already knows I brought it."

Blaise knelt down next to her. Granger was pulling some heavy books out of the trunk and putting them no the floor, which Blaise thought was weird (there was no way her weapon was a heavy sack of books, surely…) until she lifted what he'd previously thought was the bottom of the trunk and also put that on the floor.

He blinked down at what was left in the trunk. It was some type of metal slab with a handle, and there some packs of other metal bits all around it.

"Um, what the hell is that?" Blaise felt his excitement disappear. He didn't know what she was playing at. Was it some type of…heavy stick?

She actually laughed at him. That bitch.

"It's a gun, Zabini."

He sat back on his feet and glared at her. She laughed again. Did glares ever affect this girl?

"It's a Muggle weapon."

"I'd figured that much out, thanks. What does it _do_?"

"You use to shoot people."

"With _what_?"

"Bullets."

"What are those?"

"These," she said, reaching into the trunk and pulling out some smallish metal bits.

"What do they do?"

"They go through people."

"Go through people? What are you on about?"

"Yeah, Muggles use them to kill each other all the time. They're really dangerous, actually."

Blaise's mind was spinning. So her plan was to take some type of Muggle metal into Malfoy Manor?

"I don't like it," he said finally, shaking his head and leaning forward to get a better look. "It seems unreliable."

"Unreliable? Just because it's a Muggle weapon?" She bit out harshly.

"Well, yeah, actually," Blaise replied. Giving the gun a dirty look.

"Maybe if you see it in action you'll change your tune," she said acidly, standing up and going to her dresser.

"In action? What the hell are talking about? You're not going to use it on me!" Blaise shot up, backing nervously towards the door.

"No, I'm not going to use it on you," she said, clearly trying not to laugh at him again, pulling something out of her top drawer.

"Well, what are you going to do with it?"

"I'm going to show you how it works."

Blaise stopped backing up and looked suspiciously at the cloak she was holding in her arms. "Is that – is that Potter's cloak? The one you were talking about?"

"Yeah," she replied, picking something leathery looking out of the trunk and strapping it around her waist. She stuck the gun in the pocket hanging on the side and turned towards him, looking a little anxious.

"What now?" He asked nervously.

"Um, we have to go into the forest if you want to see it. Or you could just trust me when I say it's very effective."

Blaise took a minute to think. No, there was no way he was going along with the plan without knowing exactly what that thing did.

"I want to see it."

"Alright. You'll have to get under the cloak with me, though."

* * *

**A/N: Oooh, what's gonna happen next? **

**In case you haven't noticed, the chapters are a little longer now that the plot is starting to kick in to a higher gear. **

**You all know I love reviews. Like I said, crack. **


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Alright, you guys have it way too good with these fast updates. My muses have been inspired to _not _work on any of my four papers, so enjoy!**

* * *

Blaise wasn't sure how to process his current situation.

Somehow, what should have been a nice, relaxing final year of schooling had taken a couple unwanted turns had landed him here, walking through the castle after curfew.

With Hermione Granger. Under an Invisibility Cloak. On their way to the Forbidden Forest to play with a Muggle weapon.

Blaise had a sneaking suspicion that the blasted Golden Trio got away with a lot more than he thought they did because of this stupid cloak. How did all three of them fit? Seriously, there wasn't any wiggle room with just the two of them!

It was a highly disconcerting situation for Blaise. Somehow, he'd gone from a Dark Lord sympathizing Slytherin to a Potter-aiding Slytherin in cahoots with the Head Girl, and now he was shuffling out the castle doors with a girl he was pretty sure had mental issues.

Being under the cloak with Granger felt much too intimate for Blaise's liking. It felt like something friends did together, and they were most definitely _not_ friends. He wouldn't necessarily classify them as enemies at this point, but not friends. At all.

They were now walking past Hagrid's hut, the forest looming over them. Blaise paused.

"What is it?"

"It's just…I've never been in there before," Blaise admitted. He didn't like to admit it, but he was a little scared of the forest. He didn't care if Granger could sense it, which she clearly could, because she snorted.

"It's not that bad, I promise. Let's go," she said, starting forward again.

"If you say so," Blaise replied. Not feeling at all reassured, he shuffled with her into the trees.

* * *

"Can we take this cloak off now?" Blaise asked irritably.

"We should wait until we get farther in," Hermione hissed back.

"Farther? How much farther?"

Hermione bit back a laugh. She had a feeling Blaise didn't realize how panicky he sounded. "Oh, I don't know. Another few minutes in – I have a silencer, but better safe than sorry, right?"

"Silencer? What's that?"

"It's an attachment so that the shot isn't as loud."

"Is that important?"

"Let's just say that if I didn't use it tonight every creature in this forest would probably come charging at us."

Hermione rolled her eyes as Blaise – seemingly unconsciously – shuffled a little closer under the cloak.

"Do all Slytherins get scared this easily?"

"Who says I'm scared? I'm not scared!" Blaise sounded insulted, but the way his voice went up a few octaves betrayed his meant-to-be-firm defensive statement.

"Whatever you say. Alright, I think this is a good spot," Hermione halted inside a sizable clearing and whipped the cloak off. Setting it on a large boulder, she turned to Blaise. He had the look of someone who was terrified but was trying to act brave, and Hermione would have laughed at him if she were meaner.

"What are you going to kill with it?" He asked tentatively.

Hermione snorted. "I'm not going to kill anything, Zabini. Don't be silly," she reassured him as she transfigured a twig she'd selected into an oversized watermelon.

"What's that for?" Blaise asked sharply.

"I'm going to shoot it."

Blaise eyed her suspiciously. "Have you done this before? I mean, you _do _know what you're doing, right?"

"Well, when I went to visit those cousins of mine they taught me," Hermione said, wincing at the memory. She really didn't like guns, as it were, and the memory was not a pleasant one.

Blaise just grunted and leaned against a tree. Hermione walked across the clearing they were in and placed the watermelon a good distance away from where Blaise was standing (she didn't fancy being splattered with watermelon juice).

"Alright," she said, walking back towards Blaise. "Ready?"

"Uh, sure," he replied, scowling at her she prepared the gun.

"Okay, here we go."

Hermione glanced at Blaise, who looked tense, nervous, and a little excited all at once. Taking a deep breath (she hated using guns), she raised her arms and pulled the trigger.

She missed the watermelon and the bullet disappeared into the trees.

"Oh, oops…" Hermione muttered, blushing a bit. "Um, I'll try again."

It took her four shots to finally hit the watermelon, which promptly burst apart at the impact.

Hermione, a little frazzled and embarrassed at her poor marksmanship, turned to see Blaise's reaction.

He was gaping at her.

"What are you looking at me like that for?"

"You – you – _you're_ going to – to use _that _on a person?" Blaise seemed pretty disturbed at the thought of the straight-laced Head Girl using something that blew large melons apart on a living, breathing human being.

Well, the thought disturbed Hermione, too. "Um, I'd rather not have to. It's just a precaution since I can't take my wand."

"But if you _have _to use it – I mean, are you – are you going to kill someone with it?"

"God, no! I would aim at their feet the best I could if I had to use it!"

"Why?"

"What do you mean why?"

"Why wouldn't you kill someone if they attacked you?"

Hermione's eyebrows shot up. "I don't want to kill anyone. Why would you think I would kill someone?"

"Well, I would think it would be common sense to kill someone who was trying to kill _you_."

"Maybe that's how you think, but not me," Hermione snapped, shaking her head at him in disgust.

"What if you had to?" Blaise asked her quietly.

"If I had to?" Hermione echoed, a little puzzled at his seemingly genuine curiosity.

"Yeah, like if someone was about to kill a friend or family member and your only option to save them was killing the attacker. Would you do it then?"

"I would hope there would be an alternat-"

"What if there is no alternative?"

"If I had to, then yeah, I guess I would," Hermione said quietly, feeling more than a little downtrodden at the thought of ever being in that situation.

Blaise was studying her carefully. "Okay, here's a hypothetical situation for you: we're at this thing next weekend, and somehow someone notices you bumping into them. They rip your cloak off and everyone decides they need to kill you. Would you kill someone then?"

Hermione was rather alarmed at the question, even if it was only hypothetical. "Oh! Well, I think I'd aim at their feet, like I said. If you hadn't guessed, getting shot by a bullet causes excruciating pain, and I'm certain a simple shot in the foot would incapacitate someone enough that they would no longer pose a threat. Oh, and I'd take the silencer off, because I think the noise would confuse them enough for me to cause enough damage and escape."

Blaise raised his eyebrows. "I see. Well, here's another hypothetical situa-"

"Why all these hypothetical situations?"

"There's a lot that could go wrong, and I would feel much more comfortable if we had a strategy for all possible situations."

Well, that was actually reasonable, Hermione thought. "Okay, you're right, we should have strategies, but I don't think this is the place to have that conversation," she said while placing the gun back in its case.

Seeming to remember where they were, Blaise glanced nervously at the surrounding trees. "Fine by me. Can we go now?"

"Yeah. Okay under the cloak," Hermione said, waving the cloak at Blaise.

The look on his face clearly said he didn't much like walking around with her in such a confined space. Hermione, seeing this, rolled her eyes.

"Unless you'd rather let me have it for myself. I'm sure a student walking through the forest by himself looks _much_ too intimidating for any hungry creature to attack, after all."

"Shut up," he snapped, but nevertheless snatched the cloak and threw himself under.

* * *

Blaise was giving himself as much space as possible under the cloak. He was now 100% positive that Hermione Granger was out-of-this-world insane, and he didn't want any of her crazy to rub off on him.

The whole "gun" fiasco was one thing (anyone who used one of those contraptions had to be a little touched in the head), but her utter refusal to kill anyone unless it was an absolute last resort was just baffling.

He cast a sidelong look at her under the cloak. Maybe it was because his social circle consisted of a bunch of Slytherins who aspired to be Death Eaters, but he'd never considered an alternative to killing someone who posed a severe threat. It had always seemed so logical to just eliminate the threat before they had the chance to eliminate you without stopping to consider other options.

Maybe, despite the distance he was putting between them, Granger's crazy was rubbing off on him anyway, because now Blaise was wondering if maybe her ridiculous notion of only killing someone as a last resort was…right.

Blaise found this disconcerting. Not that he was reevaluating his moral stance on killing in defense, but that he was doing so because of _Hermione Granger_.

He'd always thought that she was some annoying know-it-all who was constantly sticking her nose in the air while atop her throne of self-righteousness. Now he was thinking that – even with her apparent insanity – maybe he would have to reevaluate that notion, too.

_Oh, bollocks. I'm starting to think like a Gryffindor. _

* * *

Blaise would have been perfectly happy if the next week had passed by nice and slowly, but as time is wont to do when you're not looking forward to something, the week seemed to fly by.

He'd reluctantly agreed to meet with Granger every night to talk strategy. She'd used Potter's cloak to meet him outside of the Slytherin common room after curfew so they could sneak off to find some abandoned classroom to work in without worrying about Filch. Blaise noticed a suspicious looking a piece of parchment Granger always seemed to keep in her lap while they worked, but the one time he'd asked about it she'd evaded the question and changed the subject.

Every night that they'd set aside for worst-case scenario strategy talk just made Blaise more and more sure that one of both of them would end up dead by the end of the night. He could tell Granger was getting nervous, but every time he'd brought up the option of scratching the plan altogether she got snippy with him and seemed to get crazy eyes as she redoubled her efforts to come up with plans that would keep them safe.

"Okay, so Malfoy told me Snape would be escorting the two of us off Hogwarts grounds and coming with us. _Please _tell me you've reconsidered letting Snape know you'll be there so that we have at least _some _chance of back-up of things go wrong."

It was the night before the ball, and Blaise was, despite his best efforts, starting to feel a little panicky.

"No, absolutely not," she replied adamantly, shaking her head. "If Snape knew he would order me not to go. And if for some strange reason he didn't, I still wouldn't tell him. It would just make it that much more dangerous for him and you know it."

Blaise sighed in frustration. He knew she was right, but he would have felt a lot safer if Snape knew he should be on the alert. Well, more than he already would be. Blaise still felt mildly shell-shocked that Snape was a spy for the Order (Granger had laughed at his bug-eyed expression when she'd told him about it), but he'd promised Granger he wouldn't tell Draco.

As it were, Blaise was feeling significantly less than confident in the strategy they'd finally agreed on – Granger would stick to the perimeters to avoid accidental contact, and as soon as the ball was over she'd wait in the corner nearest to the exit where he would meet her, at which point she'd follow Blaise, Draco, and Snape outside and secretly Apparate back to Hogwarts with him (apparently she'd taken the Apparition test the day she turned 17 and passed easily) while Draco went with Snape.

Yeah, it was shoddy. Yeah, something bad was probably going to happen. Yeah, Blaise wasn't sure he'd be able to keep if his head if someone discovered a Mudblood was lurking under an invisibility cloak at a Death Eater ball.

Granger had wanted to intermingle more so she could eavesdrop more efficiently, but Blaise had put his foot down. This plan was already stupid, and if the stupidity could be in any way mitigated he was going to make sure it was. Thus, he'd told Granger she wasn't allowed to venture into the crowd and had to stick to the very outer fringes and that was _it_, dammit. He really did _not _want to have to resort to one of their contingency plans.

While she seemed to exude confidence about the plan overall (though was still put out by being limited to the outer fringes of the crowd), Granger seemed a little nervous about what they were to do if she were discovered.

If she were to be found out, the plan was for her to shoot her way out (shoot _feet_, that is) while Blaise acted as shocked as all the Death Eaters/future Death Eaters/Death Eater wives so that no one would suspect him of being in cahoots with the intruder.

Blaise had no confidence in this plan, and Granger seemed to have little more.

"You should stop brooding."

Blaise's head snapped up. She'd been watching him brood, and she looked a little agitated.

"Why? You know this plan is shit."

"It's not, and you need to stop saying and thinking that."

"Why?"

"Because it's more likely to go smoothly if you have confidence."

"That's – you just made that up!"

"Did not," she snapped. "It's common knowledge that a positive attitude is more likely to reap benefits."

"That sounds like hogwash."

She sighed exasperatedly. "Please, just – just stop being so pessimistic. If you keep telling me it's not going to work it's just going to make me anxious and more likely to blow my cover."

Blaise contemplated that statement for a few minutes. He hated to admit it, but she was probably right. "Fine, I'll stop saying it's stupid," he conceded. He was not, however, going to stop thinking it.

"Okay, now that that's _finally _settled…" she grumbled, shifting in her chair. "Remember, all you have to do is act normal. Act interested, but not too interested. Appearing overly eager would be a dead give away."

"I _know._"

"And whatever you do, do _not _come looking for me."

This was the part of the contingency plan Blaise felt was terrible. If he heard anything about someone suspecting an intruder he was not, under any circumstances, to attempt to warn her in any way so as not to look suspicious.

Blaise knew he was no hero, but he didn't think he'd be able to sit back while some Death Eater went off to find, torture, and kill a suspected intruder. Granger told him he wasn't even allowed to intervene if she got caught, saying he'd only end up getting himself killed. Blaise did not like this at all – he didn't like the idea of having her death on his conscience if he thought he could have helped her. They may not be bosom buddies, but he'd come to find the Head Girl tolerable and had developed a strange sense of camaraderie with her over the past week of scheming.

No, not trying to help her wasn't a satisfying option.

Nodding his head but secretly vowing to help her if it came to it, he muttered his acquiescence.

"Good," she said, rubbing her eyes. "We should go to bed. It wouldn't suit to try and go through with this without any sleep."

* * *

**A/N: Can you tell I know squat about guns? Yeah, the only stuff I do know about guns is from those James Bond 007 video games. In fact, the gun scenario got very close to Hermione having had Mr Weasley tinker with her gun to make it shoot lasers, but I didn't want to make the already far-fetched "WTF HERMIONE HAS A GUN!" situation to get even more far-fetched.**

**Alright, I apologize to those of you thinking the ball was going to be in this chapter or the last one. I can't remember if I was clear or not, so I'm sorry either way. BUT, I can ssure you that the ball is definitely going to be the next chapter. But really, don't expect it too soon, because I need to plan it out first so that it doesn't run away from me. **

**Read and review, pretty please!**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: Huzzah! Yep, it's the chapter of the grand Death Eater ball! I hope it turned out alright...I was quite nervous about this chapter!**

**Disclaimer: You know the drill...the only thing that's mine is the plot. Everything else belongs to JKR.**

* * *

It looked like Blaise was going to be doing this without any sleep, then.

Blaise literally hadn't slept a single minute the entire night. He'd stared at the ceiling of his dormitory, every strategy they'd discussed (including the ones they'd dismissed) running through his mind.

Mostly, Blaise thought about their contingency plan of Granger shooting her way out if she was discovered. She didn't like it and he _hated _it. It was risky, it probably wouldn't work very well, and Granger would probably end up crying for three months straight if she accidentally killed someone.

She swore she'd be able to hit their feet, but Blaise wasn't so sure. They'd gone back out to the forest a few times for her to practice, and she'd gotten scarily better at hitting her mark, but…well, she hit her mark in a quiet clearing with no Death Eaters shooting spells at her. If she had to draw her gun at this ball, there was no telling how well she'd be able to hit her targets. She seemed to have a fairly calm head on her shoulders, but, well, Blaise was nervous.

And despite himself, he was nervous about what would happen if she accidentally killed someone.

Granger was so adamant about not killing anyone unless it was her absolute last resort that Blaise knew it would destroy her mentally if she killed someone on accident. He had a feeling the only way she wouldn't be scarred for life is if she accidentally shot the Dark Lord in the head. Anyone else, though…

Assuming she could keep her mark in the worst-case scenario, Blaise knew she was terrified of having to use her gun on a person, even if it was just a foot. She didn't say anything, but her face gave her fear away every time use of the gun had been discussed.

He'd thought about it all night, and he was thinking about now as he raced through the hallways to the abandoned classroom he was meeting Granger just before they left. They were supposed to do one last run-through of everything, and then Granger was going to put on Potter's cloak and go with him to meet up with Draco. But Blaise had other ideas.

"Okay, Zabini, let's run through this again."

Blaise pretended to listen carefully to everything she said, though he was really bracing himself for the action he'd been up all night debating whether or not to take. When she was done, he watched her prepare her things. His heart sped up as she started to strap on the belt thing she kept her gun in.

"Can I see that for a second?"

"See what?"

"Your – your gun," he stammered, silently cursing himself. He couldn't give himself away…

"Why?" She asked suspiciously.

Blaise shrugged, regaining his composure. "I've never really got a good look at it before, and I was just curious."

"Alright," she still looked suspicious, but she gingerly held it out to him.

Blaise pretended to study it carefully, surreptitiously shifting his weight so that he was leaning right up against an old desk.

Shaking his arm a little so that his wand – which he'd stashed up his robe sleeve – slid down to his wrist, Blaise suddenly yanked open the desk drawer, shoved the gun inside with one hand and drew his wand with the other, magically locked the gun inside.

"WHAT?" She looked positively furious, and immediately shoved him away from the desk so she could try and yank the drawer open. "Why did you do that?"

Blaise took a few steps back, momentarily concerned that she might try and hit him. "I decided that it was officially a terrible idea, so I did something about it."

"_Why_? We had it all worked out!"

"It was a bad idea and you know it, Granger. You didn't want to have to use it, so I took care of it," Blaise said calmly, hoping a gentle tone would prevent violence.

"Took care of it? You mean you made sure that the past week and a half of planning was for nothing because now I can't even go?"

"No," he said. He was nervous again, because he wasn't sure how she'd react to his new plan, and he wasn't sure how he felt about it himself (aside from the fact that it was much safer than a gun).

"_No_? So you have a new plan, then?"

Ignoring her sarcasm, he nodded.

"Well, what is it?"

"My wand."

"_What_?"

"You'll take my wand when we get there."

She gaped at him. Blaise would have gaped, too. In fact, he was still inwardly gaping that this was the solution he'd come up with.

"What if you need it?"

"I won't. The only way I'd need it would be if I messed up, and I am _not _going to mess up."

"Are you sure? I mean, you don't have to," she said nervously. She looked very anxious, clearly unsure of how to process his offer.

"Yeah," he replied. He was being honest, too – he _was _sure giving her his wand for the night was the best course of action. He honestly didn't want her to die.

What he wasn't sure of, however, was how to process the fact that he'd begun worrying about Hermione Granger's frame of mind.

"Well, okay then. Let's go."

* * *

Blaise's head felt too heavy for his body. He was really starting to feel his sleepless night, and now was the worst possible time for it to happen, as they'd just arrived at Malfoy Manor.

He didn't think he'd ever been this nervous before. He could feel Granger's hand on his shoulder, and he swore it was shaking almost as much his hands were. They were going to walk in like this, and as soon as they were in Granger was going to slip off to a nice corner for a bit while everyone trickled in before prowling the perimeters.

Snape and Draco were walking just ahead of them, muttering indistinctly. Making sure they weren't looking back, Blaise slid his wand out of his sleeve and held it behind his back, his hand still shaking as he felt it tugged from his grasp.

"Thanks," Granger breathed in his ear, sending anxious shivers down his spine.

He spent the rest of the walk up to the mansion mentally bracing himself, very much wishing he would soon become too exhausted to be nervous and eventually too exhausted to do anything but mingle mindlessly until it was time to leave.

Blaise's heart rate sped up even more as they entered the Manor. It was really a quite intimidating place, what with all the dark objects displayed everywhere. Not to mention all the Death Eaters.

He felt Granger give his shoulder a squeeze, and then her hand was gone as she crept away. Blaise didn't think it were even possible, but his nervousness about doubled.

Blaise did his best to not worry about the Head Girl as he followed Draco through the crowd. She had told him to try not and think about it and act naturally, but that was easier said than done.

* * *

One thing was for sure – Blaise was not going to be the one to hear any information on the McGonagall plan that might be floating around.

No, he was going to be stuck listening to Lucius Malfoy lecture on blood purity the whole night. It had already been a good twenty minutes, and the man showed no signs of slowing up. Even Draco had appeared to zone out after the first five minutes. Instead of attentively listening to his father, Draco was staring at the giant chandelier hanging over the center of the ballroom, apparently finding the glittering crystals much more interesting than his father's lecture.

"We have earned our place in wizarding society through generations of study and devotion to our society's secrecy…

Oh, this was definitely going to take a while.

Blaise absentmindedly gazed over the elder Malfoy's shoulder to check out the crowd. There were a still people trickling in, but it appeared as most everyone had arrived.

"Those scum would undoubtedly love us to integrate with Muggle society, with their warped priorities…"

Bellatrix Lestrange was strutting through the crowd, seeming to insult everyone she passed. It might have been a humorous sigh if she wasn't a fucking lunatic. Oh, Blaise really hoped he wouldn't have to cross paths with her this night. In fact, listening to Draco's dad drone on and on about Pureblood superiority was starting to become much more appealing. If it meant avoiding confrontation with that crazy bitch, Blaise would happily stand there for hours on end.

"There would be a bloody massacre of our people if we allow the Mudbloods to continue taking over every facet of our community…"

God, this was boring.

"I'm sure you'll be hearing this again when the Dark Lord arrives to give his speech, but it really cannot be stressed enough the need to halt the Mudbloods' progress before it's too late…"

Blaise froze.

_Hermione._

* * *

Hermione was skulking in a corner, silently freaking out.

First, she was _stunned _that Blaise had given her his wand and that it felt quite friendly in her grasp. She had no idea what to make of it, other than coming to the conclusion that maybe he was actually semi-decent.

Second, she had eavesdropped on a few different conversations and heard nothing useful, filling her with doubt that this plan would have any success.

Third, Bellatrix Lestrange had arrived, which had temporarily chased all of Hermione's wits away.

And fourth, she was bracing herself to go lurk by a group of gossiping wives, one of whom was Narcissa Malfoy.

She adjusted Blaise's wand in her grip before shakily creeping over to stand in hearing range of the group of women.

"…of course, I didn't want Jerry to partake in this particular mission, but he was quite determined."

"I'm sure he was! If I remember correctly, McGonagall assigned him a 'T' two years running. And wasn't he always more than a little spiteful?"

_Jackpot._

"Yes, he's always been one for grudges."

"Ah, it's the same with Lucius. McGonagall was always very tough on him – Lucius didn't have any talent for Transfiguration. Luckily, Draco's proven to have adequate skill in the subject."

Hermione rolled her eyes. 'Adequate' was a gross overstatement of Malfoy's Transfiguration skills.

"Well, I for one am thankful that they decided to move dates," a plump witch said, lowering her voice. Hermione inched a little closer.

"Oh, yes. The holiday had a few advantages, of course, but with mostly professors and Aurors in the castle the chances of success would be lowered, at least in my opinion."

"Exactly. I think planning the attack on the date of a Hogsmeade visit is much more suitable. It would cause a wonderful amount of panic and confusion, and the professors would be much too busy trying to worry about the students to be vigilant about themselves…"

Hermione silently turned and returned to the corner she'd previously occupied, her hands shaking. As satisfied she was with finally having a successful eavesdropping session, she was infinitely more concerned with the change of plans for the attack on McGonagall.

A Hogsmeade visit. There weren't any more left before the holidays, so that meant there were two possible days.

Oh, this was not good news. There would, in fact, be an uncontrollable amount of chaos if there were to be an attack while the students were visiting the village. At least on the holidays the risk of student involvement was greatly negated! Oh, this was bad.

Hermione was distracted from her train of thought by the sight of Blaise strolling along the outside of the crowd, sipping a glass of pumpkin juice. To the Death Eaters it would probably look like a bored teenager innocently surveying those in attendance, but Hermione saw his eyes dart along the walls as he walked.

What was he doing? Was he actually a bored teenager curiously trying to guess where she was hiding?

She watched him alternate glancing at the walls and looking out at the crowd. He was about five feet away from her when he froze, his eyes trained on the entrance to the large ballroom. Hermione followed his gaze and felt her blood freeze in her veins.

Voldemort.

* * *

Blaise was barely able to keep his hands from shaking so bad that he dropped his glass.

He'd been walking along the crowd for at least ten minutes, having pretended to have a coughing fit so he could be excused from Lucius' lecture under the pretense of getting a drink. He knew he wasn't supposed to try and find Granger if something went wrong, but this was so fucking wrong that he had to at least give a sign that some serious shit was about to happen.

They were so fucking stupid. Why hadn't they stopped to consider that the goddamn Dark Lord would show up to a fucking Death Eater ball? Oh, this was a disaster.

And then the Dark Lord arrived, and Blaise almost shit a brick.

He was gliding through the crowd towards the center of the ballroom, practically oozing horror. The crowd was silent, clearly anticipating a speech.

"My friends…"

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Blaise was desperately hoping his face was a mask of anxious eagerness, frantically hoping Granger was currently creeping out of the Manor as fast as she could.

The Dark Lord was speaking about how honored he was to have such an extravagant ball held in his honor. Blaise was only catching every other word, too busy concentrating on not giving himself away by looking like a guilty, nervous mess to listen carefully.

Blaise thought he was finally getting his face under control as the Dark Lord turned to face the opposite side of the room to address Lucius Malfoy when he felt a hand on his right shoulder blade. He managed to not jump out of his skin, but he did flinch a little and glanced to his right to see if there was anyone there. There wasn't, meaning Granger hadn't left and was now balling the fabric of the back of his robes in her hand, tugging ever so slightly. Blaise shifted his weight, covertly taking a step back in the process.

He felt her weight against him as she leaned into him. "Occlumency?" she shakily breathed in his ear.

Blaise scratched his temple to cover the slight shake of his head. He heard her breath hitch as she leaned away from him a little.

He felt her hand release his robes and could barely hear her shifting a little behind him before leaning up against him again.

"_Run_," she hissed.

The next thing Blaise knew, the giant chandelier was exploding and the wall on the opposite side of the room was blasted into bits. Granger threw the cloak over him as it was all happening, grabbed his hand, and tugged him into a sprint out the nearest door.

* * *

**A/N: Well, I hope that didn't disappoint!**

**A few things:**

**The gun/wand switch: Unintentionally inspired by JillianUnleashed. It was definitely not planned until I read his/her review. And you know what? It's much better this way. I mean, come on. Hermione carrying a gun at a Death Eater function? It would have been very, very tough to plan the chapter's big climax with a gun. Besides, Blaise giving Hermione his wand definitely works really well with their progressing relationship, which is slowly creeping into the friendship stage. Don't like the friends first rule? I don't care. I don't think Hermione's a character who would go from not being friends with a guy she really didn't care for initially to liking him without the friendship stage. That might work in some plots and when handled by skilled writers, but not for my plots or my writing. So I think the wand-giving was an important step towards friendship. There was another little obvious bit about the budding friendship...ten points to whoever catches it!**

**Voldie's non-speech: Voldemort is not really a big part of this story, so I didn't feel the need to sit and plan out a sinister speech. Honestly, I considered it...but I don't think it would have turned out very well. I'm sorry if it feels like a cop-out, but I didn't want to include it when I knew it would turn out sub-par and comically un-sinister. Sorry!**

**Reviews: This goes for all my fics: I read EVERY. SINGLE. ONE. In fact, I keep all the email notifications I get for reviews. I star them and then archive them. Don't take it personally if I don't respond to your individual review, please. If your review calls for a response then I will reply, but I simply don't have time to reply to all of them. **


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: Oof, this was challenging...but fun! Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it's not mine. **

* * *

Blaise hardly knew what was happening.

Everything was chaos.

Granger had pulled him out a door that wasn't the same one they came in and was now desperately trying to find the exit.

There was chaos all around them as Lucius Malfoy and a few other Death Eaters were running around, firing spells meant to lock the doors they passed, while the other attendees were clearly freaking out and running through the halls trying to figure out what was going on.

Granger was attempting to open every door they passed only to find it locked. She tried various spells to blast doors open to no avail, every failure causing her to grip his hand tighter. Blaise was so terrified he didn't even know how to process what was happening, desperately relying on hope that the alleged "brightest witch of their age" would manage to save their skins.

She skidded to a sudden stop, yanking Blaise against a wall with her across a large window as the Dark Lord emerged out of a door at the other end of the hallway, striding forward and surrounded by a group of Death Eaters and headed their way. Blaise didn't think he looked like he knew about the two students hidden under the cloak, but it was a small comfort. But Blaise was sure Granger had something up her sleeve. She had to…

The group was getting closer, and she still wasn't doing anything aside from breathing rapidly and cutting off the circulation in his hand.

He looked at her under the cloak, expecting to see her beside herself with terror. He was a little surprised to see that she actually looked quite calculating, though her eyes did have a touch of panic as she stared intently at the group coming increasingly close to them.

Blaise gave their conjoined hands a little shake to get her attention.

"Well?" he mouthed at her when she looked over at him.

"Wait," she mouthed back, glancing back at the oncoming group.

He followed her gaze, feeling his stomach drop. The Dark Lord and his lackeys had nearly covered half the distance between them. He felt her hand tighten even more around his and looked back at her.

"Ready to move?" she whispered almost inaudibly.

Blaise nodded, tightening his grip around her hand. She held eye contact with him for a few more seconds, nodding slightly in the direction of the window before turning and slashing the air with his wand.

Explosions rang out at the opposite end of the hall. All of the windows blew out of their frames as ceiling tiles began raining down, and the imposing group immediately turned and ran towards where the noise originated – down the other end of the hall.

He immediately sprung forward with Granger towards the window. She was still waving his wand as they ran, causing every object in the hall to start violently flying and sliding every way imaginable. Just as they reached the window an antique table skidded to stop against the wall right in front of them, and they scrambled onto it as best they could without disturbing the cloak.

"Put wards up on the windows!"

Blaise hesitated for a split second at the magically magnified voice of the Dark Lord, absolute terror spreading through him.

"Hurry!" Granger hissed, tugging his hand. She was still casting spells about the hall, as she climbed onto the windowsill with him.

Blaise felt momentary relief that they were almost out, but felt that hope leave him quickly as he looked down. This window was apparently at the back of the Manor, and the Manor was apparently on a hill. There were a good hundred feet between them and the ground.

"What now?" he hissed, looking over his shoulder to see Death Eaters running down the hall and casting wards at the windows. They only had a few seconds before they were stuck.

"You trust me, right?" she asked urgently.

"What? Yeah, just hurry-"

He was cut off by the sensation of the cloak suddenly clinging to his body as if held by glue and Granger tugging him forward to jump off the sill.

Blaise was too shocked to scream as he fell through the hair as Granger frantically waved his wand while muttering spells, disturbingly unconcerned about just having thrown them to their deaths.

He soon felt them slowing down almost immediately as they came closer to the ground. As soon as their feet lightly hit the ground, Blaise felt the cloak loosen slightly before he was pulled into a dead sprint towards the woods. He had no idea where the protective anti-apparition wards ended, but Granger was clearly not taking chances by pausing to try. He was hoping they ended at the woods, but he couldn't be sure…

"Close the boundaries!" the voice rang out again.

Blaise didn't think he could run any harder, and by the sound of Granger's heavy breathing she couldn't either. They were close to the woods now, but Blaise could already feel the magic in the air as wards to prevent them leaving were being placed around the property. He could see the air in front of the woods start to quiver, confirming his guess of where the wards ended even as he lost all hope that they would be completed before they made it.

"_BUFWILTARNYA!_"

Blaise nearly slowed his sprint as Granger slashed his wand through the air, a gigantic blast of light shooting from her wand towards the woods. There was an ear-splitting blast as whatever wards were being put up were halted and torn apart before they could be completed, and Blaise leapt over a fallen branch into the woods, barely making it three steps before Granger pulled him to a stop and turned on the spot.

After the suffocating sensation of side-long apparition, Blaise nearly toppled over as they appeared in front of the Hogwarts grounds.

Granger sounded as if she was close to hyperventilating from all their running, but she barely took more than a few seconds before pulling him into a run again.

"The wards-" Blaise started as they came to the school gates.

"Will let us through," she panted. "We're students."

Sure enough, Blaise felt nothing more than the tell-tale tingle of magic as they ran through the gates up to the school.

They didn't stop running once they reached the castle, only slowing down slightly to enter as quietly as possible before breaking back into a run once they were through the doors. They ran all the way to the Heads' quarters, barely slowing down for Granger to spit out the password to the portrait hole before throwing themselves inside and running into the Head Girl's room.

He yanked the cloak off of them, tossing it to the floor.

"Oh my god, oh my god," she said frantically. "I can't believe he was there, we were so stupid, oh my god…"

"We're back, alright? It's fine," he said, noticing her eyes turn a shade of crazy.

"It's not alright!" she cried. "We were so naïve not to even consider the possibility of Voldemort showing up and it almost got us caught!"

"What do you mean?" he asked. His fear and anxiety was quickly leaving his body, being replaced with questions and doubt. "How do you know he would have even known we were there if you hadn't starting blowing stuff up? You could have just left by yourself."

He'd expected her to get offended, but she merely sighed with exhaustion. "He would know. He uses Legilimency to detect liars and spies. I couldn't leave without you because he would have read that you were there for there with ulterior motives. I couldn't risk staying under the assumption that he wouldn't suspect us, but I'm almost positive he could sense there were intruders as soon as he arrived."

"Oh," Blaise muttered, feeling a little bit stupid for even considering that she hadn't thought her spur-of-the-moment escape plan through.

That was when he realized his hand was still in a mutual death grip with Granger's.

"Oh, sorry," she mumbled, having noticed his distracted glance at their hands and quickly disentangling her hand from his.

He flexed his stiff hand, wincing at the stiff joints.

She did the same for a moment before holding out her other hand, his wand laid in her palm.

"You were right. It would have been disastrous to go in there without a wand," she said quietly as he took his wand back.

"Yeah, well, you're not the only one with a brain around here."

She beamed at him.

"Er," Blaise stammered, thrown off a little by the sight of Hermione Granger beaming at him. "Thanks, by the way."

"For what?"

"For, you know, getting us out of there," he said. Now that he was starting to calm down a little, he was finding that he was in state of awe over her actions back at the Manor. He liked to think that he was a very able wizard, but he wasn't sure he'd have been able to think on his feet the way she had.

"I was just doing what I had to," she said, her smile turning into a secretive grin. "I've found that blowing a bunch of stuff up in the past is very effective."

"Oh," he replied, assuming she was referring to some past escapade with Potter and Weasley. "Well, it was. Effective, I mean."

"Yeah. Anyway, we need to think of what you're going to tell Malfoy."

"What?"

"You _were _supposed to come back with him and Snape, remember?"

"Oh, shit…"

"It's not a big deal, okay? Just say you…" she trailed off. "Okay, this is going to be a problem."

She started pacing nervously, and Blaise felt his anxiety making a remarkably quick comeback.

"Oh no, this isn't good…we could always – no, that wouldn't work…" she muttered nervously.

"That's it then, I guess," he sighed.

"What? No, we'll think of something!"

"Like what?"

"I don't know yet…"

Blaise sat in her desk chair and dropped his head into his hands. An all new anxiety was overtaking his system, one driven by fear of what would happen to him if and when it was discovered he just happened to disappear from a Death Eater ball right after giant explosions went off all over the place as soon as the Dark Lord arrived.

"And Snape's going to have questions…we'll have to tell him, there's no getting around that…actually, I wouldn't be surprised if he already knows…he's dreadfully off-putting but he's quite clever…"

"Snape!" Blaise exclaimed, turning in the chair to face the distressed Head Girl.

"What?"

"You said he was clever and probably knew the whole time – do you think there's any chance he already took care of it?"

She threw him an annoyed look. "Don't be ridiculous. There's no way we would get off that easy. Oh, this is all my fault! What I should have done – I should have modified your memory and left on my own…"

"Why are you always so eager to modify my mem-"

"…yes, that would have been the best course of action…ah, if only I'd thought of it then!"

"You would have erased my memory of this whole ordeal, just like that? That's not only stupid-"

"Saving your life is stupid? Funny to hear that coming from you after you just thanked me for it a few minutes ago-"

"I'm just saying that-"

"That what? That you keeping your memory of something you didn't even want to be a part of and would undoubtedly like to forget is a much more horrible option than being discovered as a traitor and getting _killed?_"

She was glaring at him, tears of frustration forming at the corner of her eyes.

Blaise didn't know how to respond. He knew she was right, but he just…he didn't like it that she was blaming herself for this new obstacle. He didn't really know why, but he didn't like it. There was something else he didn't like about what she said, but he couldn't quite figure out what it was…

"Just…just stop blaming yourself, okay?" he finally said, looking away from her.

"But I messed up," she said weakly, sinking onto her bed.

"Will you stop going on about that? You didn't mess up!"

"No, I did-"

"No," he said firmly, standing up. "You were great back there, okay? You _didn't_ mess up and we _are_ going to figure something out!"

She looked a bit startled at his passionate defense of her, and Blaise felt heat rise to his cheeks.

"You really mean that?" she asked, looking up at him with a surprise on her face, along with a little bit of relief.

"Yeah, I mean it," he said. "We'll just…we'll go see Dumbledore in the morning and figure it out, alright?"

"Alright," she sighed. "He's not going to be very happy with me."

"Big picture, Granger."

"Shut up," she grumbled, but she ruined it with a smile. "You can take the cloak to get back to your dormitory as long as you return it in the morning."

Blaise barely managed to hide his shock that she was just handing such a valuable magical object to him.

"Um, thanks," he mumbled as she handed him the cloak.

She smiled at him in reply.

_Well, _he thought, _I guess she trusts me, too. _

"I'll meet you outside Dumbledore's office at seven," she said.

"Okay," he replied, turning to leave. When he reached the door, he paused. Something she said had been bothering him. He turned back around to face her, ignoring the pride that was telling him to leave. "Granger?"

"Yeah?"

"You – you were wrong. I don't want to forget this memory."

* * *

**A/N: Awww...**

**Yeah, I kept this entire chapter in Blaise's POV because...well, I just wanted to go through it from his perspective. I mean, WE know what Hermione's capable of, but Blaise didn't...so it was fun playing with his reactions.**

**I know the asking Blaise if he trusted her kind of echoed the scene at Xenophilius Lovegood's house, but I didn't plan it that way. It just kind of happened. I needed the trust to become firmly esablished in this chapter on both sides before the friendship stage could commence, and that was what I came up with. Sorry if it bothered anyone...though I wouldn't change it even if it did! :P**

**Anyway...Review, please!**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: I know I had been on a roll with pretty frequent updates, and I fully intended to keep that going. Unfortunately, my computer decided to go corrupt. I waited a long, painful two weeks before I got my laptop back. And, because I had all my WIPs saved to my documents but not on a flash drive, I couldn't work on them. I posted a fairly terrible one-shot to make me less annoyed that I couldn't work on ISHBM and CBD, but it didn't fill the void. Anyway, as soon as I got my laptop back today I immediately went to work on my fics. Unfortunately, I have a senate report, a paper on Jewish prayer ritual, and a 16 page research paper rough draft all due in the next fortnight, so I probably won't update again until after then. Sorry in advance!**

* * *

"What you two did was both stupid and extremely dangerous. You could have both gotten killed," Snape hissed.

Hermione looked at her feet. They'd been planning on going to Dumbledore's office in the morning with Blaise, but she'd barely been in bed for an hour – though she'd been too wound up to fall asleep – before she was startled by an owl tapping her window furiously with a note asking her to please report to the Headmaster's office immediately. With a sinking stomach, she'd dutifully gotten redressed and crept through the halls to Dumbledore's office. Blaise followed shortly after, accompanied by a livid Professor Snape.

Now they were both sitting across from the Headmaster and Snape, who was pacing angrily to the side of Dumbledore's desk, listing all the ways in how what they'd done had been stupid and the various scenarios that could have played out with them ending up dead.

"I should have known you'd tag along, Miss Granger! All those escapades with Potter and Weasley – you've been pushing the boundaries for years…"

Hermione hung her head even lower in shame.

"I warned you this would happen, Headmaster. I told you they weren't going to do this intelligently-"

"Severus, I am well aware that you warned me Miss Granger would probably throw caution to the winds and join Mr. Zabini. Apparently, I should have listened," Dumbledore said gently, staring intently at the two students over his half-moon glasses.

"I'm so sorry, Headmaster-" Hermione started before being cut off.

"Miss Granger, I am very disappointed in your actions," he said firmly, though Hermione was sure she caught a hint of a wink in his eyes. "You should consider yourself lucky that I decided it would be prudent to tell Professor Snape of Mr. Zabini's involvement in our arrangement and was prepared for a situation like this."

"He – he was?" Hermione stammered, choosing to ignore Blaise's discreet yet loaded cough.

"Yes, he was. During the chaos following your delightful display of destruction, Professor Snape managed to cast a memory modification charm on young Mr. Malfoy and his father, successfully erasing their memory of Mr. Zabini having been present."

Hermione ignored another discreet cough from next to her. "Oh," she sighed, feeling immensely relieved.

"Of course, he couldn't modify everyone's memory. There's still a chance someone noticed Mr. Zabini's presence before the fireworks started and his absence after they ended."

"Yes," Snape cut in. "We're hoping that no one was bothered to register the presence of a teenager, but we can't know for sure. Be on guard, Mr. Zabini."

"Professor Snape is right. I advise the two of you to lay low for a while, and more than anything, _be careful_."

Hermione nodded. "Professor Dumbledore, I did hear something," she said anxiously, suddenly remembering that she had a nice little nugget of information to share.

"What did you hear?"

"Well, I overheard Narcissa Malfoy and few other wives gossiping about the plan involving Professor McGonagall, and they were talking about how relieved they were that the plan had been pushed back to take place during a Hogsmeade visit."

"That means it's either the 26th of February or the 15th of May," Dumbledore said sharply, turning to Snape. "Have you been filled in on any of the details of the plan yet or are they still holding you at a distance?"

"They've informed of the plan but have yet to mention any dates," Snape replied, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

"To be expected," Dumbledore said, nodding his head and seeming very unconcerned about Snape being left out of key Death Eater plans. "Ms. Granger, this information is incredibly valuable and I must thank you for gathering it, however questionable your methods were. I am sincerely grateful for these results."

"Thank you," she said with a small smile. "I promise I'll never do anything so reckless again."

"Duly noted," he responded, and once again Hermione was sure there was s shade of a wink in his eye. "Severus, you may take Mr. Zabini back to the Slytherin dungeons now."

Snape nodded and moved towards the door, motioning for Blaise to follow him with a jerk of his head.

"I told you so," Blaise snickered under his breath as he left his seat. Hermione chose not to acknowledge him again, also ignoring the serene smile that spread across the Headmaster's face after clearly overhearing the snicker.

"Ms. Granger, you may also return to your quarters," Dumbledore said as the Snape and Blaise left the room.

Hermione dutifully stood up. "Goodnight, Professor," she said politely, turning to leave.

"Oh, Ms. Granger, one more thing."

"Yes?" she asked, pausing at the door.

"Good work tonight," he beamed, not bothering to hide his approval behind dutiful reprimands now that Snape and Blaise were no longer present.

Hermione smiled back, and there was no mistaking this time – he definitely gave her one last conspiratorial wink before she exited the office.

* * *

"Jeez, Hermione! Easy on the coffee!" Parvati admonished as Hermione snatched the coffee pot before the other girl got the chance. "That's the third cup you've poured this morning!"

"Sorry, I'm just exhausted," she yawned as she poured her coffee.

"Did you forget to stop doing homework long enough to go to sleep or something?" Parvati asked, eyeing Hermione distastefully as the Head Girl chugged her fresh cup pf coffee.

"You could say that," she lied weakly. In truth, she'd lain awake almost all night running through the events of last night in her head. She was still shocked that they'd managed to escape Malfoy Manor unscathed and that Snape had been in on the plan and basically saved their skins (well, he'd saved Blaise's skin, as Hermione had been invisible the whole night).

Hermione blearily scanned the Slytherin table. Blaise was seated with his back to the Gryffindor table, but the unmistakable slouch in his back (along with the fact that his elbow – which was propping up his head – was sitting in the butter dish) told Hermione that he hadn't slept all that much either.

He'd said he didn't want to forget his memory of working with her, so Hermione had, during her long sleepless night, rationalized that they had become tentative friends. She was still wary about him and she was sure he felt the same way about her, but they had had quite the ordeal together the previous night. He'd more or less told her he'd been impressed with her actions, which meant he at least respected her.

Not enough to say "I told you so" about Snape, apparently. Well, first chance she got she was also going to give him an "I told you so" – she'd been right in assuming Dumbledore had wanted her to go all along. Granted, he probably hadn't anticipated being Voldemort to be in attendance, but still…she'd been right.

"Bloody hell Hermione, you look terrible! Did you sleep at all last night?" Ron asked as he slid into the seat next to her.

"Not really," she admitted truthfully. She really hadn't slept at all after returning from the Headmaster's office, still buzzing from the night's events. "I had a lot of – studying."

"Oh. Anyway…I reckon it should be a right laugh at the match today."

"Huh?" Hermione asked intelligently.

"The Slytherin versus Ravenclaw Quidditch match this afternoon," Ron said slowly, aghast that someone wouldn't be fully aware of the Quidditch goings-on at Hogwarts (though Hermione didn't believe she'd ever given him a reason to believe that she would be fully aware of all things Quidditch). "Like I said, it's going to be comedic gold. Malfoy's going to get his arse handed to him by Douglass."

"Who?"

"The new Ravenclaw seeker, Drew Douglass? Sixth year, much better than Malfoy. Should be fun, eh?"

"Hmm," Hermione grunted in agreement. She didn't know who this Drew Douglass was, but if he embarrassed Malfoy then he was alright in her book.

"You are going to come watch with us, right?" Ron prodded.

"Yeah, sure," she said dismissively. She didn't really want to go and would much rather take an afternoon-long nap, but she figured it was a good opportunity to spend some much needed quality time with her two best friends. "Where's Harry?" she asked, finally noticing his absence.

"He said something about helping Ginny with some homework. Homework, my arse," Ron grumbled. "That git can't even do his own homework without help!"

Hermione sent him an amused smile as she again reached for the coffee pot.

* * *

Three hours and one painfully short nap later, Hermione found herself sandwiched between Harry and Ron in the Quidditch stands, struggling to keep her eyes focused on the game. Her overdose of caffeine had not been able to keep her awake for long after breakfast, and she'd crawled into her bed and fell asleep within seconds. She had been so happy that it was Saturday and there were no classes that she'd nearly cried in relief.

As it were, she had been woken up by a grumpy Malfoy after what felt like mere minutes of being asleep. Harry and Ron had come looking for her, and the charming Head Boy had snarled through her door that he didn't appreciate having to do them any favors and she better get up and leave with them _right_ _this minute _because he didn't need to have her two goons terrorizing him before a big match any more than they already were.

So now she was huddled in the Quidditch stands, clutching her scarf tightly around her neck against the frigid early winter air. She half-heartedly waved her Ravenclaw flag after receiving a reproachful look from Rom for not being enthusiastic enough in her cheering against Slytherin.

Ravenclaw were leading 70-30, much to the delight of ¾ of the school.

Hermione watched Douglass and Malfoy circle overhead the pitch, somewhat mesmerized by their constant circular flying in her dazed state. It was much more relaxing to watch the calm circles than the chaos on the rest of the field, where Slytherin was resorting to dirty play and Ravenclaw was calling for Madam Hooch every five seconds, demanding every foul be called and the rules strictly upheld.

All movement on the pitch ceased for a few minutes as Madam Hooch called all players to the ground to lecture them on the importance of fair play, and Hermione took the opportunity to remove herself from the stands and go back to bed.

"Where are you going?" Harry asked, as Ron looked at her questioningly as Madam Hooch blew hew whistle again.

"To bed. I'm sorry, but I can barely keep my eyes open. Tell me what happens?"

The two boys nodded, disappoint etched in their faces, though there was also understanding from Harry (who had always been the more reasonable of the two).

Hermione edged along the row of students, apologizing for stepping on Ginny's feet (who brushed her apology off with a smile as she gleefully jumped up to claim Hermione's vacated position next to Harry). She managed to reach the end of the row of seats without further incident, mostly because Neville had been too caught up in the game to notice when she'd accidentally elbowed him in the stomach as she stumbled over his feet. She sighed in relief as she reached the stairs, pausing to catch one last glimpse of the match before she left.

In retrospect, Hermione wished she hadn't stopped to catch one last look at a match she hardly had any interest in.

For when Hermione took that brief pause at the stop of the stairs, she'd looked up to find the two Seekers flying straight at her, briefly registering a flash of gold fluttering in front of her face before the two boys crashed into her, sending all three of them tumbling in a heap down the staircase.

* * *

"I'm _fine_, Pansy!"

Blaise snorted. Draco was attempting to stop Pansy from fawning over him, but being restricted to infirmary bed was causing him to fail spectacularly.

Draco had broken both of his legs and wrist in the collision, but Blaise suspected his pride was hurt more than anything. Not only had he had to be levitated across the grounds in front of the entire school howling in pain, but he had also failed to capture the Snitch.

Drew Douglass hadn't fared much better than Draco – a broken collar bone, a crushed hand, and a broken ankle – but he had grabbed the Snitch from right in front of Draco's face before they'd collided with the Head Girl and landed all three of them in the hospital wing.

Hermione Granger was still unconscious, snoozing peacefully in her bed and blissfully ignorant of her shattered right arm and fractured kneecaps.

Potter and Weasley were sitting silently beside their best friend, while the Weasley girl was stomping around after Madam Pomfrey, demanding answers as to why the boys were awake but her friend was not.

Pomfrey, for her part, was keeping her lips tightly pursed and ignoring the persistent redhead, silently administering potions to all her patients.

"How much of this are you going to make us drink, anyway?" Douglass moaned from his bed, wrinkling his nose at the cup of Skele-Gro that had been shoved into his hands. His younger sister smacked him lightly on the head and threw an apologetic look at Pomfrey.

Draco demanded the same thing as he received his own dose of the potion, complaining about his delicate digestive system.

"I'll do it," the girl Weasley said irritably, snatching the cup of potion from an annoyed Pomfrey and gently administering the potion to Granger's unresponsive mouth.

The match had ended three hours ago, and Blaise could tell Granger's friends were starting to get worried that the Head Girl had yet to wake up.

Honestly, Blaise was kind of worried, too.

He'd be more worried, though, if he hadn't guessed that she was simply exhausted from lack of sleep the night before.

He assumed she'd had little sleep because _he_ hadn't slept at all. Blaise had been sat in bed all night, replaying every moment of the evening's events in his head, becoming more impressed with Granger each time.

Still, he was worried.

He supposed they were some type of friends now. After seeing her in action, it was impossible for him not to respect her, and after seeing her modesty in her self-doubt afterwards, it was impossible for him not to like her.

Blaise had always kind of thought of her as somewhat arrogant, what with her bossiness and know-it-all air and her self-righteousness, but he had been proven wrong last night.

He probably shouldn't have gloated that he'd been right about Snape after seeing all this, but he _was _a Slytherin.

His eyes lingered on the Head Girl as she lay on her bed, completely still except for the steady rise and fall of her chest. Potter and Weasley were slumped in their chairs, staring despondently at their friend, while the she Weasley sat on the edge of the bed and glared at the two fully-conscious Seekers.

"Alright, everyone, visiting hours are over! Off to bed, NOW!" Pomfrey snapped, daring the visitors to protest.

Douglass' sister patted her brother's hand and left, followed by a mutinous looking she Weasley, who was being firmly led out the door by Potter and her brother. Pansy pouted but said nothing as she stalked out the door, not noticing the look of mingled relief and delight that crossed Draco's features.

"See you," Blaise muttered, following the Gryffindors towards the door.

He paused at Granger's bed, an idea forming in his mind.

"What are you doing?" Draco demanded, noticing his friend's pause at the Head Girl's bed.

"Nothing, it's just – she's much less annoying when she's unconscious," Blaise quickly fibbed.

"Damn right," Draco muttered. "If only she'd stay this way, I might survive living with her."

Blaise looked at Granger for another moment before leaving the hospital wing. He calmly caught up to Pansy, and patiently listened to her worrying all the way to the dungeons.

He'd dutifully assured her that Draco would be fine before excusing himself to bed, not caring that Pansy hadn't been at all assured. As soon has he got to his room, he retrieved a certain cloak he had on loan from his trunk. Making sure no one else was in the room, Blaise threw the cloak over himself and, as stealthily as he could, made his way back to the hospital wing.

* * *

**A/N: Hope that was good enough to make up for the drought. But hey, at least it wasn't a seven month drought!  
**

**Read and review!**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: **Well, this is a rather lighthearted chapter. No moody plotting or anything, just a little comedic break because...I think it's about time for some romantic feelings to start popping up, yeah?

* * *

Blaise crept into the infirmary as quietly as possible, hunched over under the invisibility cloak. After a quick check to make sure Pomfrey was nowhere to be seen, Blaise silently put a silencing charm on her door.

The curtains were drawn around all the occupied beds for the night. There were only three occupied beds – Draco, Douglass, and Granger. There was a sort of irritated huffing noise coming from Draco's bed; clearly the Head Boy was awake, bored, and irritated. Blaise heard a rustling sound coming from Douglass' bed, which he assumed was a book. Blaise and Douglass being awake didn't faze Blaise: he was well versed in Silencing Charms.

Blaise padded over to the bed he knew to be Granger's, listening carefully for signs of her being awake. All he heard was slow, steady breathing. He wasn't surprised that she was still unconscious, and he was glad he wasn't going to have to scare the bejeezus out of her when he invisibly opened and closed the curtains.

Blaise slipped through the curtains around Granger's bed, silently adjusting the cloak so he could sit in one the chairs previously occupied by her Gryffindor friends before putting a Silencing Charm on the curtains.

Granger was, indeed, still asleep. Only about a quarter of an hour had passed since Pomfrey had kicked everyone out of the hospital wing, so this was expected. Still...Blaise really wanted her to wake up. Now that he had a closer look, he could see that the right side of her face had some heavy bruising, and Blaise felt his minor worry start expanding.

Which was normal for almost-friends. Completely normal.

Blaise suddenly felt uncomfortable.

Fortunately, he was delayed from dwelling more on why that was by Granger stirring awake, her eyes fluttering open. She slowly sat up, wincing at her injuries and taking in her surroundings with a frown.

Blaise had been prepared to take off the cloak as soon as she woke, but he found himself hesitant now that that time had arrived. He wasn't quite sure how she would receive his sudden presence…after hours…at her bed in the infirmary…

Well, no use putting it off.

Blaise swiftly pulled the cloak off, flinching as Granger shrieked in surprise.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed, clutching at her heart with her good arm.

"Well I needed to make sure my accomplice didn't die in a tragic Quidditch accident, yeah?"

"I'm fine," she insisted, though her words lost some of their persuasion when she winced as she shifted to sit up in her bed. "Well, I will be, at any rate."

"Draco will be sorely disappointed."

She glared at him.

And the uncomfortable feeling returned to Blaise. She was fine, and he suddenly felt silly for sneaking into the hospital wing after hours to check on some broken bones.

"Did you come all the way up here just to make sure I was alright?" she asked with genuine curiosity, tenderly feeling her bruised face.

"Well," Blaise cleared his throat, thinking fast. "See, I happen to have this nifty cloak on loan, and I was quite moved to jump at what was sure to be the only chance I would ever get to use it by myself." Well, _he _thought that sounded like a good enough reason.

"Makes sense," she muttered, nodding her head a little. "It is quite liberating when used for non life-or-death situations."

"Any chance you don't want it back?"

"It's not mine, remember? It's Harry's."

"Oh. Right." Damn Potter.

"Yes, so I'll be needing it back after all my bones and such are back to normal. I'd like to get it back to Harry before the holidays."

"Pity. It would be nice to have something fun to make the break go by faster," he grumbled, slumping in his chair.

"You're staying at Hogwarts over break?"

"Unfortunately. My mother's going to be in Italy doing who knows what, and she already told me she didn't think joining her would be conducive to her plans, whatever they are."

"Oh. Well, Harry says the Christmas feast is quite lovely, so there's that."

"Yes, because if _Harry _says it then it must be true," Blaise rolled his eyes.

"Very funny," she replied loftily. "Would it kill you to not be so pessimistic about _everything_?"

"Maybe," he said gravely.

She started to laugh, but her laugh quickly turned into a hiss of pain as she jostled her shattered arm.

"Merlin, Harry wasn't kidding about this!" she groaned.

"What?"

"In second year Harry had to have all the bones re-grown in his arm and he said the pain was ridiculous."

"Well if _Harry _said it-"

"Don't even! It really does hurt!"

"Sorry, couldn't resist-"

"DOUGLASS!" Draco suddenly roared from his bed. "Stop twiddling with your damn book pages this instant or I swear I'm going to burn it!"

"I'm not even doing anything!"

"You're flicking the stupid pages nonstop and it's _annoying_."

"Oh, well _excuse me_ for disturbing the great Draco Malfoy-"

"That's quite enough, and if I hear another word from either of you two I'll take away your pain reducing potions!" Pomfrey growled, having emerged from her office, at which point Blaise hastily threw the cloak back over him.

"Sorry Madam Pomfrey, he just started yelling at me!" Douglass insisted.

"I don't care who started it. Bed. NOW!" Pomfrey snarled, slamming her office door shut.

"Thanks a lot, Malfoy."

"Oh, shut it."

Despite the Silencing Charm he'd cast, Blaise had had to stuff his fist in his mouth to keep from laughing through the whole exchange.

"Oh, it is good to be reminded that I'm here due to sheer idiocy," Granger chuckled.

"Yeah," Blaise said, watching her laugh. "Idiots."

* * *

Blaise could barely keep his eyes open at breakfast the next morning. He'd ended up staying in the Hospital Wing until it was nearly dawn, at which point he realized he should probably be gone before Pomfrey woke. As tired as he'd been, Blaise hadn't been able to sleep for the hour or so he had before his classmates got up for breakfast. He'd been too busy thinking about his night in the infirmary with a certain Gryffindor.

It had been…really great, actually. As exhausted as he was, Blaise was not sorry he had decided to go visit Granger on a whim. They'd stayed up all night talking about anything and everything, from making fun of Draco to the Weasley twins' spectacular exit in fifth year and even Flitwick's hilarious tendency to find himself on the receiving end of his students' charms-gone-wrong. There was something surreal about it all, though. They'd maybe exchanged three words with each other in their first six year at the school, and now they were…friends. A month ago Blaise would have balked at the idea of becoming actual friends with Hermione Granger, but now he was quite glad they were. Hours of conversation had seemed like mere minutes to Blaise.

The exhaustion was _so _worth it.

"Oh, there's Douglass! Do you suppose that means Draco's out as well?" Pansy asked, perking up and looking comically excited at the sight of the Ravenclaw.

"I don't know, probably," he answered, his mind not on _Draco's_ release from the infirmary.

"Oh! _There he is_!" Pansy squealed, jumping up and running full tilt towards Draco. Draco, the poor thing, who had strutted into the Great Hall in a triumphant sort of way looked so repulsed by the sight of Pansy sprinting at him that it looked for a second as if he would turn and run right back out. Blaise watching in mild amusement as Draco held up his hands defensively before Pansy could leap into his arms, claiming loudly that he was still very sore.

"You couldn't restrain her or something?" Draco hissed at Blaise as he sat down.

Blaise only smirked in response.

"Oh, Draco, was it awful being there all night?" Pansy crooned.

"You could say that. Douglass, the stupid bint, kept me up for_ever_. Granger was out all night, thank Merlin for small favors. I think I might have hung myself if she hadn't been unconscious the whole time."

Blaise pretended to choke on his pumpkin juice to keep from laughing openly.

"Speak of the devil. Looks remarkably sprightly for someone who insisted on being dramatically unconscious longer than everyone else," Draco grumbled, glaring towards the door.

Blaise immediately quelled his alleged coughing fit, eyes immediately going to the entrance of the Great Hall. Granger was walking in with the girl Weasley, looking almost as exhausted as Blaise was. The girl Weasley had said something to make Granger laugh, and Blaise barely kept from smiling.

The two of them were making their way along the Gryffindor table towards Potter and Weasley when Douglass accosted them.

"See what I mean? Bint," Draco said, scowling at Douglass as he appeared to be apologizing profusely to the Head Girl. "As if it's not her own damn fault for being in our way!"

Pansy snickered, but Blaise remained silent. How long did it take for a bloke to apologize for knocking a girl down the stairs, anyway? Certainly not this long.

And was it really necessary for Douglass to sit with them? _Really?_

"Um, hello?" Draco waved his hand in front of Blaise's face.

"Sorry, what?" Blaise asked, tearing his eyes away from the revolting scene at the Gryffindor table where the girl Weasley had whispered something to Granger and shot a significant look at Douglass, giggling.

"I asked if you finished our Potion's essay?"

"Oh, that. No," Blaise admitted. Actually, he hadn't even started the essay. He'd been quite busy the past few days.

"Damn. I was hoping to copy. Ah, well. Come over later and we'll work on it."

"Yeah, sure," Blaise said, distracted by the sight of Granger laughing at something Douglass had just said.

"I need to work on my essay too!" Pansy said desperately. "Can I come?"

Blaise had no choice but to tear his eyes away from the Gryffindor table again to see Draco's reaction.

"Uh, I thought you said you finished it Thursday?" Draco asked, adequately masking his alarm with a frown.

"It could use some work though…"

"Er, alright then."

Damn.

* * *

"Pansy, will you _please_ let me work on this?" Draco growled dangerously at Pansy, who'd been fussing with his hair.

Unsurprisingly, trying to get any homework done with Pansy present had proved to be impossible.

Blaise had struggled to even finish writing his introduction with her incessant fawning over Draco, who appeared to be close to manually throwing Pansy from the room.

"Don't be silly, just copy mine!"

Blaise let his head fall into the table. "Pansy, can you please just _shut up?_"

"Yes, please shut up. I shouldn't have to put silencing spells on my door every time you come in here."

Blaise snapped his head up. Granger had apparently entered unheard, and was now glaring at Pansy.

"For your information, I was _helping_ the Head Boy!" Pansy said snottily. Draco looked even more harried than before, clearly not in the mood for a confrontation. Blaise didn't take his eyes off Granger, who hadn't so much as looked at him since she'd made her presence in the room known.

"Well, _for your information_, I don't think the Head Boy is interested in failing," Granger shot back, raising an eyebrow condescendingly.

"Well I-"

"Oh my god, can everyone just shut the hell up? I'm getting a headache!" Draco snapped, glaring at everyone.

Granger rolled her eyes and started towards her room. She didn't so much as throw a backward glance at the group of Slytherins before shutting her door, which Blaise found disappointing.

"She is _so _annoying," Pansy sneered.

"Whatever, I'm going to the library," Blaise sighed, gathering his things. Draco just waved him off, clearly still annoyed at the whole situation.

Blaise didn't bother saying goodbye to Pansy, who was clearly delighted that she had Draco to herself.

He frowned as he made his through the corridors towards the library. It wasn't going to be difficult to get his essay done in the library, and he was wondering why he hadn't just ditched Draco and gone there in the first place.

Oh, right. Because he'd been hoping to get the chance to so much as catch Granger's eye while in the Head's room. That couldn't be good…

* * *

**A/N: **Oh, this was all very fun to write. For the record, I love comiceffect!Draco. Well, I love Pansy being annoyingly over-the-top obsessed with him and playing with his reactions to it all. And it was rather fun writing Blaise becoming aware of certain feelings he may have. Fun, fun, fun!


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: **Sorry for the wait. I didn't think it would take this long for an update, but life happened. First was the stress of finals, and then the hustle and bustle of the holidays. I had like three papers, including that 18 page monster I'm sure I've complained about in a previous A/N (if not on this story then on CBD), which I mercifully got an A on. And then I was working everyday, and I was kind of burned out from so much not-fun paper typing...you know how it goes. Anyway, at least it wasn't seven months. Seriously: before you complain about a few weeks between updates, remember how I used to take 3-7 months between updates? Yeah. A few weeks is nothing.

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it doesn't belong to me.

* * *

Hermione was confused.

She frowned out the beetles she was currently chopping for Snape's latest Potion's assignment. Hermione _hated_ being confused.

It had been quite the surprise to wake up in the Hospital Wing to find Blaise Zabini sitting next to her bed. It was surprising that he had come up to check on her (though not surprising that he was looking for an excuse to take advantage of having Harry's cloak, because who wouldn't?) and then spent the night talking with her.

What was _really _surprising was how much she had enjoyed that night. Yeah, her knees had been sore and her arm had been absolutely excruciating, but after awhile she'd barely noticed the pain.

It had taken entirely too long for her to reach the obvious conclusion that she and Blaise were friends now (which was still quite unfamiliar, considering all the years they'd basically ignored each other's existence), so it was totally normal for her to have enjoyed conversation him.

Except by that logic, she shouldn't have felt so…flustered at seeing him in the Head's room with Malfoy and Parkinson.

Of course, that could easily have just been from the potion she had taken that morning for the pain in her newly healed bones wearing off. She had, after all, felt quite queasy all morning.

"By now your Potion's should all be a forest green shade. If it is not, you might as well stop now rather than waste my time," Snape announced, rising from his desk and glowering at the class.

Hermione glanced around the class, momentarily distracted from her thoughts. She was satisfied that her potion was indeed forest green, and she was, as always, curious to see who else had avoided cracking under Snape's glare.

It appeared most of the class seemed to have been successful thus far, as Ron was the only one glaring at his potion, which was lime green.

"Well, you were close," Harry said, peering into Ron's cauldron. "Though I think lime is bit cheerful for Snape's taste."

Hermione chuckled. "Add your beetles, Ron," she said lowly, glancing at Snape, who was sniffing Ernie's potion.

Ron tipped his beetles into his potion, which had the desires effect of turning his potion from lime to forest. "A lifesaver as always, Hermione," Ron said, breathing a sigh of relief.

"Don't know how you got into this class, seeing as you can't even get halfway through a potion without Granger saving your arse," Malfoy sneered from behind them.

Hermione shook her head at Ron, who had opened his mouth to offer a retort. Snape would be inspecting their row next, and she was positive Malfoy was only trying to goad Ron into saying something that would cause Snape to deduct points from Gryffindor.

"Is that how you got into all your N.E.W.T. classes, Weasley? Your parents have dung from brains, so you obviously couldn't bank on genetics."

"Just ignore him, Ron," Hermione said.

"Do you always do everything she tells you? Merlin, you must even stupider than I thought if you have to rely on a Mudblood to get you through life!"

"Shut it, Malfoy," Harry growled.

"Oh, so I see she has you whipped too, Potter! You two probably shouldn't be banking so hard on Granger to run your life, seeing as you're likely to end up drooling in the psych ward at St. Mung – OW!"

Hermione whipped her head to see what had gloriously stopped Malfoy mid-insult, and was pleased to see that he had somehow managed to pour his near-boiling potion all down his robes. Her eyes unwittingly flicked towards Blaise, who was sitting next to him and stealthily sliding his wand back into his pocket.

"And why, may I inquire, is your potion on your robes and not in your cauldron?" Snape asked, raising an eyebrow at Malfoy.

"It was Weasley, sir!" Malfoy said triumphantly, clearly under the assumption that is had been Ron who had hexed his potion.

"What? I didn't do anything!" Ron sputtered, glaring at Malfoy and unhelpfully waving his wand in indignation.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor," Snape said coldly.

"Why do I even bother?" Ron grumbled, slouching in front of his potion, which Snape vanished before even inspecting.

Hermione didn't answer, as she was still looking at Blaise, who was pointedly looking away from her.

* * *

There were only three things left to do before Hermione left for the holidays.

One, she had a Charms exam.

Two, she had to track down Crookshanks, who had a tendency to wander around in unused part of the castle looking for mice when Hermione ran out of treats.

Third, she had to talk to Blaise.

Since the incident in Potion's class the week before, Hermione had attempted to catch him alone on numerous occasions. For one thing, she needed to discuss with him his project of preventing Draco from recruiting students to fight with the Death Eaters.

Mostly, she just wanted to tell him off for his stunt in Potions.

Hermione peered around the library. She was at a table that allowed her to see the entrance to the library as well as most of the open area with work tables, and she was hoping Blaise would pop in for some last-minute studying before the end of term.

She'd been studying for her last exam for two hours by this point. She knew the material like the back of her hand, but extra studying never hurt anyone. Hermione was more than happy to continue to read through her notes while she waited, glancing at the door every time she saw the movement of a student entering or leaving the library.

After three and half hours, however, Hermione was considering giving up. There was only an hour and half before Madam Pince would gleefully kick everyone out, though most of the students had left on their own already. But just when Hermione had resigned herself to the fact that Blaise wouldn't be making an appearance and began to put her things away, he strode into the library…

…with Malfoy. Hermione barely restrained groaning in frustration. Tonight was her last chance to talk to Blaise before she left for the holidays, and sodding Malfoy was unintentionally thwarting her effort, that prick.

Defeated, Hermione continued putting her things away and stormed (but in a dignified way) out of the library.

* * *

Blaise watched the Head Girl stomp out of the library with a look of extreme annoyance on her face, feeling guilty. He could tell she'd been trying to talk to him since he'd hexed Malfoy's potion to spill onto its maker that Potion's class, and he'd been purposefully avoiding her. He knew she was going to lecture him, and he really didn't like being lectured. Tonight, however, he hadn't planned on avoiding her. It just so happened that when he was on his way to return a book to the library he'd run into Draco, who wanted to nip in to get a book out for his usual last minute studying.

"Er, can you give this back to Pince for me? I just remembered something…" Blaise trailed off vaguely, cursing himself for not thinking of a better explanation for a quick departure as he held his book out.

Draco grabbed the book, scowling in annoyance. "It only takes a second, but if it's that important-"

"Great, thanks," Blaise cut him off, turning immediately and rushing out the door.

Blaise walked briskly through the halls on his way to the Head's quarters, hoping to both catch up with Granger and get a sizable enough lead from Malfoy that there wouldn't a chance of the Head Boy walking up on his best friend having a civilized conversation with his nemesis.

He finally caught up to her a few corridors away from the Head's quarters, still huffing in irritation as she walked. At the sound of his approach, she looked over her shoulder and stopped walking when she recognized him. If it was possible, her expression became even more annoyed when she caught sight of who was approaching.

"Hey," he said lamely as he finally reached her.

"You've been avoiding me," she said irritably, glaring at him.

"No I haven't," he lied.

Granger snorted in disbelief. "Try again."

"I was busy," he offered.

"Bollocks. You were avoiding me."

"Why would I be avoiding you?"

"Probably because you did something really stupid and you wanted to avoid hearing someone tell you how stupid it was?"

Blaise sighed in defeat. "Fine. I was avoiding you. Try to keep your lecture short, will you? Draco will be along any minute now."

Granger glared at him again before turning and opening the door to an unused classroom. "I have no intention of keeping it short," she said imperiously, gesturing him to follow her into the classroom.

Blaise sighed again, but it was only half sincere as he entered the classroom and shut the door behind him and casting a silencing spell on the door. On top of anticipating a lecture on the perils of stupidity, he had been rather stressed out from end of term exams all week. Couple that with the not-as-horrifying-as-he-would-have-thought realization that he had a thing for the Head Girl, and he was quite pleased to be back spending time with Granger. Truth be told, Blaise had found very little inner opposition to having a thing for Granger. Having seen her in action, any lingering prejudice about Mudbloods being inferior in magical skill had vanished. The only opposition he felt had little do with him personally and more to do with outside forces. His friends all hated her, and he was supposed to be keeping up appearances that he hated her as well. His mother disliked Muggleborns, and, well, people his mother disliked sometimes ended up dead. But then again, his mother was so vague and detached that it was hard to tell what she thought sometimes. Ah, well, the-

"What were you thinking?" she rounded on him, snapping him out of his chain of though. "What if someone had seen you – other than me? What if _Malfoy _had seen you?"

"Weasley had his wand out too, Malfoy would have thought it was him anyway-"

"What if Harry had seen you, then? Or Snape? Or anyone who actually has half a brain?"

"Snape already knows anyway-"

"Why in the world would you even do that?"

"He was being a prat-"

"He has been that way for seven years," Granger seethed. "We've been putting up with it for _seven _years, Zabini!"

"But-"

"He was deliberately trying to get Ron in trouble with Snape, and thanks to you he did."

"But Draco was out of line," he insisted halfheartedly, being distracted by the angry flush in her cheeks.

"He's _always_ out of line!"

"What he said about you-"

"Is no worse than what he's been saying about me since first year. It's been a long time since Malfoy's taunts have succeeded in making me feel bad about my heritage."

"But-"

"There are no 'buts,' Zabini! What you did could have jeopardized our entire plan. For lack of a better word, it was really, really stupid," she finished with an exasperated sigh.

"I'm not sorry."

"Good, you should – wait, what?"

"I'm _not _sorry."

She looked at him disbelievingly, seemingly lost for words for the moment.

"I couldn't just sit back and let him say those things without doing something!"

"That's exactly what you should have done," she said tiredly, leaning back against a table. "Even Ron and Harry have learned to restrain themselves. Well, most of the time."

"I'm still not sorry," he said defiantly.

She contemplated him for a moment. Blaise was hoping she'd stop being annoyed with him and be…impressed, or something, but then –

"Then you're even stupider than I thought," she said, shaking her head. "Look, I appreciate the thought, I really do. But we have a plan, and that stunt could have really messed things up."

"But it didn't," Blaise pointed out.

"But it could have."

"But it _didn't_. Merlin, are you always like this when someone tries defending you?" Blaise asked, going on the offensive. He'd forgotten how much he hated being lectured.

"I don't need anyone to defend me!" Granger bristled, straightening up.

"You prefer sitting back and letting people throw shit at your name?"

"What are you – no, I don't prefer it, but sometimes you have just ignore the meaningless insults-"

"Do you really care that much about House points that you'll sit there and let yourself be insulted mercilessly?"

"I'm the Head Girl, there are standards to uphold!"

"Sod the standards!"

Blaise actually laughed at the scandalized look that crossed her face. "Come on, Snape knows how important your position is in more ways than one, you really think he would do anything to jeopardize that? Especially for something as trivial as telling Malfoy to shut up after he insulted you?"

"Acknowledging Malfoy by telling him to 'shut up' only feeds his taunts," she replied haughtily.

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard," he said, feeling a twinge low in his stomach as her face flushed with indignation.

"That isn't the point," she snapped. "You shouldn't have done what you did, Zabini."

"Blaise."

"What?"

"Call me Blaise, Hermione" he said, taking a step towards her.

"Um, alright," she said awkwardly. "You shouldn't have done what you did, _Blaise._"

"I wanted to," he said with a defiant smirk, taking another step.

"You _wanted _to?" she echoed with another exasperated shake of her head.

"That's what I said, isn't it?" he replied, taking another step so there was only about a foot of space between them.

"But that's – that's stupid," she said nervously, finally noticing the decreased amount of space between them.

"Then I guess I'm stupid," he said, closing the space between them with one last step and capturing her lips with his.

For a few seconds, it was bliss. Her lips were soft beneath his, despite the fact that she was frozen in shock. Just when she seemed to lean into him and his stomach felt like it would explode in happiness, something sharp cut into his calf.

"OW!" he yelped in pain, jumping away and glaring at something large and hairy that appeared intent on tearing his leg apart.

"Crookshanks!" Hermione squeaked, bending down to try and pry him away.

"Get if off!" Blaise hissed, wincing as he felt a fresh tear in his flesh while silently cursing the creature for all eternity for interrupting them.

"Crookshanks – stop!" After a few more moments of struggling, Hermione finally succeeded in enveloping her – was that thing a cat? – in her arms and pulling him off Blaise's leg.

Blaise watched her straighten up anxiously, ignoring the pain in his leg for the moment.

"Um," she said awkwardly, flushed with embarrassment. "I should go."

"Hermione, don't-"

"No, this can't – I can't -" she stammered, closing her eyes for a moment.

"Don't go," Blaise said softly, watching conflicting emotions play across her face.

"Have – have a nice Christmas," she choked out, pushing her way past him and out the door, her cat hissing over her shoulder as she went.

* * *

**A/N: **Hope it was worth the wait! As usual, I had no idea how this chapter was going to end until I was writing it. In my general plan, all I had was: potion's incident, long conversation (lecture on stupidity included) before winter break. I'd been so worried about pacing for the romance that I debated for a few hours about putting their first kiss here, but it felt like it was time. And when I realized it was finally time, I thought to myself _it's about time! _Haha, phew! But no worries, it's not going to be a giant, unrealistic leap into glorious relationshippy bliss that fast. _  
_

As always, reviews are much appreciated!


	18. Chapter 18

**Author's Note: **I know, a long wait. What can I say? It's one of those semesters. So many papers, so many essays, so much mental fatigue. So much other stuff - impending publication deadlines, passport renewals, appointments of every kind. I've been on such overload that it's a miracle I was able to get this out! It's the mandatory filler/reaction chapter, but it needed to be done. Gred and Forge's seems like a fitting date for a new update, yeah? I barely made it, but it's still April 1st on my time.

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine. The only thing that's mine is the plot.

* * *

_Stupid, stupid, stupid_.

Blaise….was a moron. That was the only explanation for his actions.

One impulsive decision and what did it get him?

Stewing in anxiety in a near-empty castle over winter holidays, that's what.

A grand total of three students had stayed for the holidays this year and Blaise had no inclination spend time with either of them, seeing as they were both Hufflepuffs. No, Blaise had opted to spend his break confined to his room and mentally punishing himself for doing the unthinkable and…and…

_I kissed her. _

Just picturing her horrified-bordering-on-disgusted face afterwards right before she'd fled the room was enough for Blaise to burrow his head under his pillow in embarrassment, a position in which he had pretty much spent his whole break. Was she disgusted because of what she'd done or was she disgusted because of who it was with?

Probably the latter. They'd grown to be friends, but he was sure she still held the fact that he was a Slytherin who was friends with Draco Malfoy against him. Just another surly Slytherin. The only bonus to her disgust was that it meant she surely wouldn't tell a soul. Not that he thought she would blow their whole plan (which he had probably put to an end, come to think of it) over it, but there's was always the chance she might be so distraught that she'd let it slip and he'd be facing a seriously steamed off Weasley and Potter come the end of holiday.

The end of break was something Blaise was dreading, which meant the days were naturally flying past. While part of him couldn't help anticipating seeing Hermione again, most of him was positively dreading her almost certain ignorance of his existence – a prospect he might soon have to face, seeing as there were only three more days of break.

There was always the option of not _letting _her ignore him and actually make some kind of an effort to squander what was left of their working friendship or even more –

_Don't go there,_ Blaise mentally scolded himself. There was no use contemplating things that would never happen.

* * *

"Hermione, are you okay?"

"Yes, why?" Hermione replied, avoiding Ginny's eye.

"It's just…you've been acting distant since you got here. Are you sure nothing's wrong?"

"I'm sure," she lied. Truth is, she knew she had been acting distant and distracted since she'd arrived at the Burrow for the last week of break, but she'd been hoping it would have gone unnoticed. It was easy enough to assure her parents that her distracted behavior was due to stress over the combination of school and evil witches and wizards plotting various rampages, but there was no hope with Ginny. It was hard enough hiding anything from the girl under normal circumstances, but when sharing a room with her it proved impossible. Hermione, Ginny, Ron, and Harry had all spent the past couple nights up late enough that she had been able to avoid much trouble, but the late nights had finally caught up with the lot of them and they had thus all gone to bed early this night in the hopes of catching up on sleep. Unfortunately, this provided ample opportunity for Ginny to pounce, which she did as soon as Hermione shut the door behind her.

"It's a boy, isn't it?" Ginny asked, undeterred by Hermione's blatant lie.

"What? No, of course not!" Hermione sputtered, knowing her flaming cheeks were already giving her away. "Why would you think that?"

"Because something's obviously bothering you and I _know _if it was anything related to the war or schoolwork you would have already told all of us, especially Ron and Harry, and I know you haven't because you haven't been around just the two of them since you got here. Well, maybe not about your schoolwork, but still. It's a boy, I know it!"

Hermione wrinkled her nose. Ginny's powers of deduction were far too proficient for her liking, which made it much harder to deny her accusations. It did not, however, mean that she couldn't work around them.

"I take your silence as confirmation," Ginny said triumphantly. "So who is it?"

"Um, you don't know him," Hermione lied. "He's a Muggle I know from home."

"Oh," Ginny replied in a disappointed tone. "That's nice, I guess," she added, not sounding at all like she thought it was nice that it was someone she didn't know.

Hermione couldn't even begin to contemplate Ginny's reaction if she knew who it really was that was causing her distractedness. Of course, Hermione still hadn't exactly worked her reaction yet either.

On the one hand, she was finally realizing that she had some level of feelings for Blaise Zabini that were more than just friendly. On the other hand, she wasn't sure how valid those feeling were. For all she knew it was just a temporary crush that had grown out of interacting so much with someone she still didn't know all that well. It could very well just be one of those things based on intrigue that would dissolve after getting to know him better, or would have anyway had the little incident in the classroom never occurred.

Now it was impossible for Hermione to dismiss any feelings she had for Blaise because they were probably only fleeting and would soon disappear. It's not like they could just go back to working together and act like nothing had happened. It would be easier, of course, if she could just stop working with him altogether, which she couldn't. What they were doing was far too important to just cut off because of hormones.

Unless…well, they had gotten the information Dumbledore had been waiting for. At this point, any additional information they could gather would probably just be technical strategizing, information that Snape would be able to get easier and faster at this point. The only thing they really had left to do was work on Malfoy, which was always going to be Blaise's job. He didn't need her assistance, which would probably just hinder progress in that area anyway.

Yes, that would be the easiest way to deal with the situation. As soon as she got back to Hogwarts (only a few days away by now – where had the break gone?), Hermione could just send him a note reminding him to work on Malfoy and be done with it. It would be really immature and something she'd probably be embarrassed about in the future, but it would be easy. But what if it was hard – what if her feelings were more than she currently realized and it would eat away at her for weeks…or longer?

It _was_ Blaise Zabini, Hermione reasoned. He was a rich, pureblooded snob who was easily annoyed with just about everything. For all she knew, he still held some bias against Mudbloods and Muggles. He was a _Slytherin _who was best friends with Draco Malfoy and other future Death Eaters. Yeah, he was attractive and smart and funny and practical and a really good kisser –

"Hermione?"

"What?" Hermione asked, snapping out of her thoughts.

"I asked if you thought anything would come of it?"

"Oh, no. It's nothing, really."

* * *

Blaise fiddled with the corner of his blanket. Students would be arriving back to the castle in less than an half an hour and he was still undecided as to whether he should leave the safety of his room. If he decided not to, he had three options: he could wait in the entrance hall and greet Draco and his other friends like a normal person and just settle for stealing a glance or ten at the Head Girl or he would wait in some alcove near the Head's dorm and confront the girl who had unintentionally been depriving him of sleep for the past few weeks. He was currently leaning towards going the route of a 13 year old prat and staying in his room.

The worst about it all was the uncertainty. For all he knew, Hermione was planning on ignoring his existence as soon as she got back. What if he waited in the entrance hall in the hopes of catching her eye only to be disappointed when she pretended not to notice him? Or made a face? No, she wouldn't make a face; she was too mature for that…right? Blaise felt his stomach turn at the thought of confronting her – the possibility of being rejected again was positively nauseating.

Despite every rational thought telling him just how bad of an idea it was to even attempt to get involved with _Hermione Granger, _Blaise couldn't ignore that he had some very real feeling for the gold girl of Gryffindor. The first rebuff had already sucked enough; another one would be next to unbearable. What would he do if she fulfilled his fears and rejected him again?

Blaise checked his watch. Only a few minutes left.

There was no way he could stay in his room. The anticipation – both good and bad – had been eating away at him for too long to not at least wait in the entrance hall. It would be a good way to gauge her reaction, Blaise reasoned as he leapt off his bed. If she caught his eye and ran to the nearest loo to vomit then that was a bad sign, if she caught his eye and just blushed and looked anxious that was probably a sign that all hope was not lost, and if she ignored his presence entirely than it meant there wasn't a shot in hell and that she probably never intended to speak to him again.

Blaise sprinted through the dungeons, heart thumping in his chest, not slowing down until he reached the final staircase leading to the entrance hall. He could hear the first arrivals milling about, and he was suddenly very conscious of the fact that he was panting and probably looking like a red-faced loon from stupidly running the entire way. Blaise hesitated for another minute, but the sound of more students arriving sent him running up the stairs, feeling silly for being so nervous about the possibility of not seeing Hermione because he was feeling self-conscious.

She wasn't there yet, Blaise quickly noticed. Draco was, however, and was loudly detailing the amount of presents he'd received from his parents to Crabbe and Goyle, who weren't sluggishly walking behind him.

"Ah, Blaise!" Draco exclaimed as he approached him. "Nice break at the castle – why in the hell do you look like you've been doing laps around the Quidditch pitch?"

"Oh, you know, I ran all the way up here because I was just _so _anxious to see you," Blaise replied sarcastically.

"Very funny," Draco rolled his eyes. "But then again, staying at the castle over break probably was boring enough to inspire a new, strong appreciation of yours truly."

Blaise opened his mouth to counter with another sarcastic retort, but stopped short when he caught sight of Hermione Granger walking though the doors with Potter and the Weasleys.

His heart felt like it had stopped for a millisecond before starting back up at an impossibly quick rate. She wasn't looking quite in his direction, but her group would be walking past him in mere moments. Draco was saying something, but Blaise didn't hear a word of it. He'd forgotten how pretty she was, and with the snowflakes that were still clinging to her hair she looked downright angelic at the moment.

Blaise's admiration was short-lived, for just as he was thinking how the cold seemed to suit her complexion, she looked up and caught his eye.

Immediately, her cheeks – already rosy from the cold – blushed a deep shade of red before she averted her gaze, walking right past the group of Slytherins looking about ten varieties of anxious.

Before Blaise knew it, she had disappeared with her group of friends around a corner.

_Well, she didn't vomit. _

By Blaise's standards, the blush-and-look-away followed by an anxious expression was a good sign.

Simultaneously satisfied and not, Blaise knew there was only one course of action – he was going to wait for her near the Head's quarters. There was nothing for it; _he had to know. _

Blaise bid a quick farewell to a confused and mildly annoyed Draco before setting off up the nearest staircase and breaking into a run once he reached the top; he'd taken the wrong staircase so Draco wouldn't wonder why he was going in the direction of the Head's quarters, so he had a lot of time to make up if he wanted to beat Hermione to the last corrider. She'd been heading in the direction of the Gryffindor common room, but that was no guarantee that she'd stay there, and who knows how long it would be until Draco came along. She probably wasn't going to be pleased to see him so soon, but he needed to know. If she reacted overly negative he would just say that he wanted to discuss how they'd go about working on their mission from here on out or some other bollocks that he didn't really care about.

"Blaise?"

Blaise skidded to a stop. Feeling as if a large brick had just dropped into his stomach, he turned towards the corridor he had just been running past.

Hermione Granger was standing there, face red and looking even more anxious than she had before.

Blaise, aware once again that he was out of breath and heaving like a prat, could only stare in return. Words were supposed to fit into logical sentences, but he was having trouble putting any together.

"What are you doing here?" she finally squeaked out.

"Er," Blaise cleared his throat, attempting to regain some semblance of composure. "I, uh, I think we should – we should talk."

She surprised him by nodding. "Yeah, that's probably a good idea."

* * *

**A/N: **So fatigued. Next chapter will be the big one, though, so thumbs up for that.


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: **See? I don't always wait a long time between updates. I made up for the really long wait with a really short wait, so enjoy it while it lasts. I'm heading into the homestretch of the semester, which means lots and lots of work and stress.

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it isn't mine. The only thing that's mine is the plot.

* * *

Hermione had already made up her mind. Though she had been hoping she would've had a couple days to get the ovaries to inform Blaise.

But he did have a rather troublesome impatient streak. Well, it was troublesome in this case, for sure. Hermione didn't even think she'd see him the first night back let alone catching him running towards her room in the obvious hopes of talking to her. Blast.

The worst part was how he'd failed to keep the hopeful expression off his face when she'd acquiesced to talk to him. What was even worse was how horridly she felt when she'd realized that they empty classroom they'd gone into for privacy was the same one where…well, when everything fell to shit, basically.

Hermione cleared her throat nervously, not really sure of what to say and thus not wanting to be the first one to talk. Just as she working up to ask the requisite inquiry into how break went –

"How do you feel about me?" Blaise asked quietly.

Hermione's mouth snapped shut. So much for formalities.

The problem, of course, was that she still wasn't sure how to answer that question.

"I'm not sure," she finally answered.

"What do you mean _you're not sure_?" he challenged. "You either have feelings for me or you don't, Hermione."

Hermione was thrown of by his directness. She hadn't come in expecting to lay out exactly how she was feeling, though in retrospect she probably should have prepared for the possibility because she was obviously wrong. Hermione hated being wrong.

"It's not that simple," she finally said hesitantly, looking at the floor.

"Bollocks. I can make it a yes or no question if that'll make it easier," he said with more than a hint of sarcasm. "Yes or no: do you have feelings for me?"

"Yes," she snapped, irked that her strategy of evasion had been thwarted. "Yes, I have feelings for you."

A smile broke across Blaise's face, and Hermione felt like the worst person in the world.

"But it doesn't matter," she added before he could speak.

"What do you mean?" Blaise asked, the smile falling from his face.

"This can't turn into anything."

"Why?" he demanded.

"We have a job to do, Blaise, a job that relies on secrecy. Us being…_together _like that would blow the whole thing," Hermione sighed heavily.

"Why would anyone have to know? Nothing has to change. It's not like we have to go flash it about the castle – we already do the secretive thing," he pressed.

Hermione frowned. "Like – us be a secret? That's just not on, and you know it."

"No, I don't know it because I don't really care," Blaise said, starting to look desperate. "It doesn't matter to me whether it's secret or public, the only thing I care about is y-"

"No!" Hermione snapped. "That whole idea is awful. Dumbledore gave us a mission and to jeopardize the whole thing because of some fleeting feelings would be wrong and irresponsible!"

Blaise looked stunned at her vehement reaction. "Fleeting?"

"Yes, fleeting."

"I don't know about you, Hermione, but for me this isn't fleeting. Not remotely. I know what a stupid, fleeting crush feels like and this isn't one!"

"It always feels like it's not fleeting at first, that's the point!" Hermione insisted.

Blaise clenched his jaw. "You're wrong, Hermione."

"Fine, say I am wrong. But it doesn't change the fact that we can't do this! Our partnership is supposed to be a secret and I can't risk it-"

"It could still be a secret!"

"Stop!" Hermione nearly screamed. "Please, don't ask me for that! I'm sorry, but even if you are okay with having a secret relationship…_I'm _not."

"But why does it even matter if we're a secret or not?" he implored.

"It's not a question of if it matters, because there is no 'us,'" Hermione looked away from him again, hating herself and hating his blind hopefulness even more. "The mission is what matters."

* * *

Blaise was still standing in the empty classroom. Hermione had left nearly twenty minutes ago, but he was so shocked by her cold refusal that he hadn't been able to bring himself to move.

It was his own fault. He had stayed relatively pessimistic over break and had been resolved to stay that way to a point, but his senses had fled him as soon he had seen her. Why had he felt the need to confront her on the first night? Stupid, stupid…

His approach was all wrong. The problem was that he had let her talk when obviously a speech would have probably been more effective. Something persuasive that wasn't too heavy would have been good. But no, he had to go with _how do you feel about me_, which was probably the very worst thing you could to say to someone you were hoping would agree to a relationship with you.

_The mission is what matters. _What did that even mean, anyway?

He really should have anticipated this. Seven years he'd been in her class and had never seen her in any kind of relationship, unless you counted one date with Viktor Krum (which he didn't). Hermione Granger was not the type to let boys get in the way of her education, and the same rule would _obviously _extend to the impending war. Her priorities had never involved boys.

Blaise sank into a dusty desk. What now?

He could just do what she said and let it go, focus on the mission, work on Draco, etc. etc. He'd probably earn points in her book for doing what she said, after all. Maybe after seeing how dedicated he was to their mission she'd have a change of heart and realize this wasn't some fleeting thing. Hermione respected people who followed rules, and if he followed her rules he was sure her opinion of him would skyrocket.

Or he could ignore all her stupid stipulations and do it his way.

Blaise shook his head, a petulant grin already spreading across his face. She would kill him if he did that, he was sure of it. As far as Blaise could tell, Potter and Weasley didn't challenge her a lot. He wouldn't either if he was them – Hermione Granger _hated_ when people challenged her, the whole school knew it.

But there was nothing for it – Blaise refused to give up.

Blaise stood up from the desk, idly wiping some dust from his sleeves. It was settled then: he was going to ignore Hermione's assertion that there was no 'us' and the stupid mission was the only thing that mattered and all that other bullshit. A plan was already forming in his head, and he wasn't going to wait to put it into motion.

Blaise was going to win her affections…starting tomorrow.

_Fleeting my ass._

* * *

Hermione had slept terribly.

She was lying in her bad after getting a meager two hours of sleep, staring at the ceiling and feeling too much like crap to care that she was missing breakfast. She felt like an awful person, but it was for the best. She had decided on the last night before she returned to Hogwarts that there was no way they could form any kind of relationship outside of their working one, and she knew it was the right call. She would never be able to forgive herself if she disappointed Dumbledore and McGonagall because of a boy.

It hadn't been easy, but it was something Hermione was programmed to do. Things like relationships only served as distractions to the big picture. In this case, the big picture was the last stage of their plan: Malfoy.

Hermione couldn't help herself – she was seriously wishing that they had focused more on Blaise convincing Malfoy not do anything stupid (like recruit students to fight against Dumbledore, for example) earlier. Then she would have the weight off her shoulder and be free to…

What, exactly? Be in a relationship with Blaise Zabini?

The whole notion felt so foreign that Hermione still couldn't wrap her brain around it. If she and Blaise had already completed their job, she wouldn't be so worried about…

There it was. A mental block. The idea of being in a _public _relationship with Blaise was stalling her brain. It was so ludicrous that she couldn't even begin to imagine what it would be like or how people would react.

Yes, she got about as far as 'disaster' before her mental block kicked in.

Maybe that's why she had spent a great deal of the night mulling over the concept of a secret relationship.

Blaise had a good point – they were already meeting privately and to the knowledge of no one, so it wouldn't really be that much different. The only thing would be different would be post-discussion activities.

Even in her sleepless state, Hermione couldn't help smile a little at the thought.

_Don't, _she scolded herself. She had stay focused.

Hermione was wearily pulling herself out of bed when she heard a distant knocking at the portrait hole. Malfoy had obviously been sitting in the common area, as a few seconds later she heard him greeting the visitor.

"Morning, Blaise."

Hermione barely restrained her self from sliding back into bed and sticking her head under her pillow. She glanced at her wand, sorely tempted to put a silencing charm on her door. This was not what she needed. It was already bad enough that she would be sleepwalking through her classes on the first day back; she didn't need the added distraction of Blaise Zabini being the first person she saw the first day back.

Of course, she would have just stayed in her room until he left if she hadn't checked her clock and realized with a sinking feeling that she would be late for her first class if she didn't leave in a few minutes.

Hermione glanced down at her outfit. She had slept in her clothes from yesterday because she'd been too preoccupied with crawling under her covers to change the night before. _Screw it, _she thought, and pulled her school robes on over her clothes. Steeling herself and vowing to walk straight towards the portrait hole without so much as a glance at either of the Slytherins, Hermione grabbed her bag and marched out her door.

As soon as she entered the common room, Hermione immediately felt the urge to look towards the two boys sitting off to her right. After forcing herself to keep her eyes on the exit, Hermione nearly sighed with relief as she was reaching for the door.

"Morning, Granger," she heard from behind her.

Hermione froze, hand still in mid-air, and slowly glanced over her shoulder. Blaise was smiling genially, almost arrogantly at her.

"Can I help you?" she choked out, feeling her face burning and glancing at Malfoy, who looked about as confused as she felt.

"Nope. Just greeting the Head Girl like a good student," he replied smoothly.

"Oh, well, thanks, I guess," Hermione stuttered.

Malfoy coughed. "Uh…"

Blaise smirked at her. "You have Arithmancy today, correct?

She nodded stiffly.

"I suppose I'll see you later, then."

Hermione gaped.

"See you later, then," Blaise said with another smirk.

"Um…bye," Hermione squeaked before nearly throwing herself out of the portrait hole.

_What fresh hell?_

* * *

"What was that about?" Draco demanded as soon as the portrait hole slammed shut behind Hermione.

"Oh, you know, just having a little fun," Blaise shrugged, silently congratulating himself. "Did you see how flustered she got?"

"Yeah," Draco laughed. "Good point. I thought her head was going to explode."

"Looked like it," Blaise nodded. "I might turn this into a new game. Merlin knows we could use the amusement around here. Everyone's gotten so serious and _boring _since this whole stupid war started that it's like all the fun has been sucked out."

"Yeah, I guess," Draco shrugged. "But I would hardly call the war 'stupid.' Seeing how apathetic you are I'm not surprised you feel that way, though."

"Ah, yes. I forgot that you actually care about," Blaise said condescendingly. "Why do you care so much?"

Draco looked at him like he'd grown a second head. "Because it's important to me!"

"Or is it because it's important to your parents?" Blaise countered.

"Whatever," Draco retorted, leaning back into the couch. "You're a dick, you know that?"

"Yes," Blaise said proudly. "And the Gryffindors will soon be experiencing it in large doses from now on."

"You mean like what you just did with Granger?" Draco asked, leaning forward again and looking interested.

"Yeah. I mean, hurling the same insults at Gryffindors all the time has started to get stale, don't you think?"

Draco raised his eyebrow. "When you put it that way, I suppose it _is _getting old, isn't it?"

Blaise nodded. "Yeah, so I'm thinking of bringing in a new way of screwing with them."

"Mind-fuck them with kindness so that they get so confused they cease to function?" Draco cackled. "That's kind of brilliant, actually."

"I know," Blaise smirked. "I thought of it."

"This is going to be good," Draco said excitedly.

"Yes," Blaise replied. "Yes, it will."

* * *

**A/N: **Yes, Blaise. It is going to be very good.

Note: "The mission is what matters" is a line from Buffy. It's such a low-blow that I had to use it.


	20. Chapter 20

**Author's Note**: Whooo! Yes, yes, I know. It's been forEVER. I apologize. How long was the wait...5 or 6 months? My record is 7, and I'll be damned if I ever take that long. But really, after school ended, I just need some relaxing. And then I went on vacation with my family at the end of May. And then when I got back I worked every single day until I left for France, where I was for 3 weeks. And then I worked almost every single day until school started. And then I got tendinitis in my hand (and I didn't keep the brace on as long as I was supposed to and so my hand still aches when I type sometimes...like right now). And then school started. And then I came down with a horrible case of senioritis where all I wanted to do was curl up in bed for a few years. And in the middle of all this I was revising and editing a paper I'm having published.

BUT...my class got cancelled today, and it just so happened that my muses returned as soon as I got the notification email. So voila! New chapter!

**Disclaimer**: If you recognize it, it's not mine. The only thing that's mine is the plot.

* * *

Hermione glared at Blaise.

"What are you doing?" she hissed, glancing nervously at the stunned crowd of students who were gaping at the sight of Blaise Zabini holding a classroom door open for Hermione Granger.

"What, is it crime to hold the door open for our beloved Head Girl?" he taunted, eyes glittering with a challenge. Hermione felt the irritation at being challenge rise inside her - she hated it when people challenged her (unless, of course, it was academic).

She narrowed his eyes at him before looking back towards the other students. Everyone was looking utterly confused - everyone but the small group of Slytherins, who were fighting back smiles.

"Certainly not," she snapped haughtily, straightening her shoulders and sparing him one last glare before marching through the doorway. She had no idea what he was playing at, but she didn't like it. Hermione threw her school bag down on her desk and sank into the chair, crossing her arms in frustration. She had expected Blaise to act a little differently towards her since her rejection, but she had anticipated something along the lines of coldness or mild hostility.

She would have preferred either of those to this...whatever it was he was doing. Hermione had no idea what his game was and it was pissing her off.

"Is this seat taken?" she heard a familiar voice ask.

Hermione looked up at Blaise in extreme annoyance. She opened her mouth to make a witty retort but found herself distracted by a similar scene playing out at other desks in the classroom amongst the Slytherins and Gryffindors - Dean Thomas, who usually sat next to her, shot her a look of pure horror when Malfoy motioned for him to sit at his desk with a comically over-enthusiastic smile.

"I'll take that as a no," Blaise said with a smirk before settling into the seat next to her. "And how has your day been?"

"What are you up to?" Hermione demanded in a low voice, eyeing the confused Gryffindors around the room and the Slytherins who were acting suspiciously friendly towards them.

"First I can't wish you a good monring, then I can't open the door for you and now I can't even make civil conversation?" he asked with mock hurt. "That's not exactly exemplary behavior from the Head Girl, now is it?"

Hermione eyed him with suspicion. "You're up to something. The lot of you are!"

"So skeptical of civility. I thought you were a proponent of interhouse unity, Granger," Blaise quipped, his eyes full of challenge again. "Haven't you always wanted Slytherins and Gryffindors to get along?"

"Oh, shut it," she snapped quietly, refusing to back down. "What are you up to?"

Blaise stopped smirking, but the challenge was still in his eyes. "The mission."

Hermione felt her cheeks redden but didn't look away. "And how, exactly, is this part of the mission?" she hissed.

"Well, you see, the idea was presented as a way to screw with your ruddy house - Slytherins cozy up to Gryffindors and have them walking around like a bunch of speechless lunatics - but in acuality it's meant to get them talking in the hopes that they realize they're not all that bad," he replied smoothly, though he wasn't looking at her as he said it.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at his profile. It was entirely possible that his explanation had been truthful, but there was something in his slightly furrowed brows that made her think otherwise. "That's the worst plan I've ever heard of," she said lowly.

He looked back at her. "It was the best I could come up with that came along with benefits," he replied quietly, his infuriating smirk returning.

"What-" Hermione started to ask, but was cut off as Professor Vector called the class to attention.

* * *

Blaise mentally sighed with relief when Vector started class - he could tell he had been _this close _to having to come up with another half-assed lie on the spot to cover up his slip.

That whole rubbish about the Slytherins' latest stunt had been an outright lie that was incredibly stupid (at least the part about it fitting in with the stupid mission) and Blaise was pretty sure she hadn't bought it - that is until he let himself get a little carried away with that bit about benefits, at which point he could practically see her mind working to figure out just what this was all about.

A drawback to the plan, Blaise quickly noticed, was that he could barely pay attention to class because he was too busy stealing glances at the girl sitting next to him.

The irony of it, though, was that the benefits he spoke up weren't just something nice to go along with a larger plan; they were the whole reason Blaise had initiated the new mess-with-the-Gryffindors scheme. The benefits being, or course, that the scheme allowed him to talk to Hermione whenever he saw her in public.

Blaise glanced out the corner of his eyes at his desk-mate, who was studiously ignoring him. He had known she would be suspicious of the act, naturally, whereas all the other Gryffindors had predictably gone into a kind of coma of utter shock.

Predictably, Hermione made to sprint out off the room as soon as class was over, as did the rest of the Gryffindors. Ignoring a cackling Draco, Blaise threw his books into his bag and ran out after her.

She was joined by Dean Thomas, who was recounting the horrible experience of a friendly Draco Malfoy. "…absolutely horrible! He asked if I wanted to join him for lunch!" Thomas complained to Hermione, both of them somewhere between a walk and a jog.

"Funny, I was going to ask Granger here the same thing," Blaise said, having caught up to them. "But she ran out so fast I didn't have a chance."

"Yes, what a shame," she said sarcastically, eyes narrowed.

"I'll just have to settle for asking now, then," Blaise replied smoothly.

"Don't bother," she snapped. "I've already just promised Dean here that I would join him."

She was lying, Blaise was sure of it. The somewhat surprised look on Thomas' face was a dead giveaway. "Fine," he said, regrouping. "I'll just join you at the Gryffindor table."

Hermione's eyes shut for a brief moment, and Blaise could tell she was convincing herself that it wouldn't be worth it to hex him in the corridor.

"Excellent! We'll all eat together!" Draco announced as he walked up to the group. "Do I feel a new study group forming?"

Blaise had to bite his tongue to keep from absolutely losing it over the looks on the faces of the two Gryffindors.

* * *

"Hermione, you'll never believe what's been going on - oh," Ginny trailed off, as evidence that Hermione knew exactly what was going on sat on either side of her. Dean, that traitorous bastard, had stuffed one of the Weasley's Puking Pastille's in his mouth and ran to the sanctuary of the infirmary before they had reached the Great Hall.

"Ah, Weasley! Would you like to join us?" Malfoy asked from her right, gesturing towards the vacant seat across from them.

"Er, no, I don't think so," Ginny replied, regaining her composure. "Seeing as I can't stand you, I'd rather skip lunch than sit with you."

Hermione couldn't help but laughing as Ginny turned up her nose and walked away. If she hadn't thought it would look terrible for the Head Girl to blatantly refuse an attempt at interhouse unity, she might have done the same. As it was, the Professors had taken notice of the friendly Slytherins and appeared delighted (except Snape and McGonagall, who were eyeing the entire student body suspiciously from the front table).

There were a few others in the Gryffindor House who had taken a similar route as Ginny and skipped lunch rather than eat with Slytherins (Harry and Ron included, those traitors!), but the rest were miserably sitting next to Slytherins and hardly touching their food. There were a couple Slytherins scattered among the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, but the majority seemed to have focused their efforts on bothering the Gryffindors. Pansy Parkinson was talking Parvati's ears off a few seats down, and Hermione expected the poor girl to stab herself with her butter knife in the near future.

"What a shame good old Dean couldn't join us," Malfoy said loudly. "I was hoping to-"

"Shut up," Hermione snapped. "Just shut up."

"My, Granger, why so rude?" Malfoy had the gall to act affronted.

"Whatever it is you're doing, just stop."

"That's a sore way to repay kindness," Blaise said from her left.

"I don't what you all are up to, but I highly doubt kindness is behind it," Hermione replied, refusing to look at Blaise.

"Stereotyping the Slytherin House as being incapable of friendliness, eh? No one likes a stereotype," Blaise said condescendingly.

"I never said the Slytherin House was incapable of friendliness - but I know you two aren't," Hermione responded, this time choosing to look Blaise in the eye. "Selfishness isn't so easily masked."

Blaise met her gaze but chose not to reply.

"We will choose to ignore your unfriendliness," Malfoy said imperiously, slapping Hermione in the back in a would-be-friendly way. "Blaise, would you mind passing me those rolls?"

Hermione, still giving Blaise a death glare, frowned as a smirk emerged on Blaise's face.

"Why, sure thing," he said.

Without breaking eye contact with Hermione, Blaise grabbed the plate of rolls and deliberately leaned in closer as he moved the plate down the table. Hermione's breath caught. Blaise's smirk widened into a full-on grin at the sight of her flushed cheeks, and Hermione quickly turned her head away.

"If I'm not mistaken, I think your House's table gets more food than ours. Blaise and I will have to eat here more often," Malfoy said as he grabbed a few rolls.

"Sounds good to me," Blaise said. "Pass those rolls back, then."

Hermione felt the heat rise in her cheeks again, as Blaise had purposefully shifted on the bench while retrieving the rolls so that they were sitting far too close together.

"So Granger, Blaise and I will be studying for Arithmancy tonight. Consider yourself invited to the Head's quarters."

"Malfoy, I live there."

"Well, feel free to not hide out in your room for once."

"I don't need to study for Arithmancy, thanks."

"Seeing as you're so bloody brilliant at the subject, I'm sure you wouldn't mind helping us out a bit?" Malfoy bit back, losing his fake-friendly tone for a moment.

"Draco's right. I know I could use some help in the subject," Blaise added.

"Don't be ridiculous, you're averaging an 'E' in the class," Hermione snapped, before freezing in mild horror. Blaise had mentioned his grades in the class sometime before the winter holiday during one of their meetings, but as Malfoy was under the impression she and Blaise never communicated, she couldn't exactly reveal this fact.

"How do you know what Blaise is averaging?" Malfoy inquired.

"He had all his homeworks spread out on our desk while he pretended to not be able to find fresh parchment today," Hermione lied quickly. "So arrogant."

As Blaise was now sitting so close to her that the sides of their bodies were making contact, Hermione could feel him chuckle at her lie. It sent shivers up her spine.

"Ah, well. Why settled for an 'E' when you can get an 'O'? Blaise quipped.

"Because there's no way in hell you have the brains to get an 'O' in Arithmancy," Hermione snapped back, turning back to Blaise to glare at him. "I could spend all term helping you and you still wouldn't be able to pull off an 'O' without cheating."

A flicker of hurt passed through Blaise's eyes as Malfoy cackled on her other side.

"She's got you there, mate," Malfoy said, still laughing.

"Maybe," Blaise said. "But…I just want that 'O' quite badly," he continued, pretending to sound desperate and lowering his eyes. "As Head Girl, who better to help someone achieve their academic goals?" He leaned closer to Hermione, raising his eyes to meet hers in fake earnestness. "So even though you seem to doubt my capabilities…won't you please help me…Hermione?"

He was leaning in so close that Hermione could feel his breath on her face, and for a moment she was unable to form a coherent response.

"Now you're just going overboard," Malfoy said with a chuckle. "Overkill."

Hermione cleared her throat and went back to pretending to pick at her food.

"Just because you don't care about your grades doesn't mean I don't," Blaise replied, still leaning in far too close for Hermione's comfort.

"Seeing as he made Head Boy, his grades have clearly proved to be more than sufficient," Hermione said smoothly. "I don't see a badge on your robes, do you?"

Malfoy laughed again. "The girl speaks truth, I'll give her that!"

Hermione couldn't help but feel mildly satisfied.

"Sure. Truth," Blaise responded. Hermione felt him bend his head closer to hers, the feeling of satisfaction quickly disappearing. "That was low and you know it," he whispered in her ear so only she could hear.

Hermione turned her head to meet his eyes again. "You deserved it," she whispered half-heartedly. Their faces were far too close, and Hermione thought for a moment she would have to throw herself off the bench to keep from doing something stupid.

Thankfully (though a part of her wasn't very thankful at all), Blaise pulled back after a moment. "I'll see you tonight, then," he said. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a class to get to."

Hermione didn't allow herself to watch him leave, though the left side of her body felt oddly cold as Blaise vacated his seat.

"Well, I never thought I'd see the saintly Head Girl chase someone off with cruelty," Malfoy exclaimed, sounding genuinely happy at her display of bitchiness. "Good show, Granger."

"Um," Hermione muttered, not entirely sure how to respond to this. Luckily, Malfoy was quickly distracted as Dean finally arrived. Looking a little green but satisfied at his escape, Dean's expression quickly dissolved into one of abject misery as he spotted Malfoy waving at him.

"Ah, Dean's here! Outstanding!"

Hermione thunked her head down on the table. It was all too much.

* * *

**A/N**: I also got a new computer. It auto-corrects instead of underlining typos, which I hate. I don't do betas, so if there are some out of place words due to stupid autocorrecting...sorry.

Feel free to express distaste for the long wait in a review! Next chapter should be up fairly soon, if that helps...


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: **Told you the next chapter would be up soon!

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine. The only thing that's mine is the plot.

* * *

Hermione did not, in fact, "help" Blaise and Malfoy study. She had resolved to not encourage the new Slytherin Policy of Friendliness, especially with those two. Instead, she stayed in her room that night…and every night after that for a week, for Blaise had taken it upon himself to ask her to help them every day.

The one positive of the whole shenanigan was that the Slytherins - particularly Malfoy - were being nice. Sure, it was mocking and manipulative, but it was keeping conflict down. Hermione hadn't had to break up any interhouse arguments since the new Friendliness started.

The drawback (though a significant part of her didn't see it as a drawback at all) was that Hermione had spent a large portion of the week in the company of Blaise and Malfoy, who, it seemed, really did enjoy Hermione's cruel responses to Blaise's pretend niceness (though of course he was more pretending to pretend). They'd joined her every day the past week for lunch (and Dean, having had run out of Puking Pastilles, was forced to join them a couple times after Arithmancy) and Blaise was personally escorting her to all her classes.

Hermione had consulted with Harry and Ron after the first day of Friendliness.

_"They're trying to screw with us - try not to react," Hermione explained. "In case you couldn't figure it out."_

_"That's pretty much what we'd thought, yeah," Harry nodded. _

_"I don't get it. Why? It seems like a lot of work just to annoy us," Ron said. _

_"I don't know," Hermione hedged. She had come up with a theory, but seeing as it it involved Blaise…well, she couldn't very well share with Harry and Ron. Yet. _

_"What do we do about it? Counter-offensive?" Ron suggested, scratching his head. "Returning the favor might cause them to call it off. The teachers will think we've all gone bonkers, but it could work."_

_"Maybe, but is it worth it?" Harry asked. "I mean, it's just like you said - it's a lot of effort to annoy them."_

_"Ignoring it might be the best option," Hermione said, "I, for one, have no interest in pretending to be friendly with them."_

Hermione was currently huddled in the back row of the Quidditch stands by herself trying to convince herself that she really did have no interest in being anything but annoyed but the Slytherins. Because - though she quelled the thought whenever it entered her brain - she was finding it harder and harder to ignore Blaise.

He, naturally, was purposefully making it harder. Blaise always seemed to find an excuse to touch her, usually in the form of sitting entirely too close and/or brushing against her whenever an opportunity presented itself. It wasn't over-the-top or even obvious - had it been anyone else she wouldn't have though anything of it. But it was Blaise, the boy she was working very hard to _not _like, and so to her it seemed over-the-top and far too obvious.

Hermione pulled her scarf tighter around her neck as she watched Harry fly past her. Gryffindor was already up by a significant margin over Hufflepuff, and so Hermione had slowly stopped paying attention, deciding to absently watch Harry in hopes that he would catch the Snitch and end the match quickly.

"Mind if I join you?"

Hermione jumped in surprise.

"Sorry," Blaise said, though he didn't look sorry at all. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"Okay," Hermione said mutely, turning her attention back to Harry's flying form.

"_Okay? _That's all I get?"

"Mhmm."

Blaise sat down next to her. "Can I talk to you?"

"If I'm not mistaken, you already are," Hermione said, trying her best to sound utterly indifferent.

"Why do you keep doing that?" he asked, sounding frustrated.

"Because you're an idiot and I refuse to encourage your idiotic behavior."

"Hermione, I already told you, I started this whole thing because it's what you wanted - "

"What I wanted?" Hermione snapped, finally looking at him. "What I wanted was for you to work on Malfoy, _not _for you to come up with some half-baked excuse to be around me in public!"

"That obvious, huh?" Blaise sighed, dropping his head. "I should have known you'd figure it out soon."

"You should also have known that I wouldn't like it at all."

"Oh, I did know that," he chuckled, looking back up at her. "Points for awareness?"

"Nice try," Hermione answered, though she softened her voice. "But since you were aware and went through with it anyway…"

"So that really doesn't mean anything to you, then?" He asked imploringly.

Hermione looked away from him again. Truthfully, it did mean something to her that he would do something so horrifically stupid just to be around her. "No," she finally whispered.

"Dammit, stop lying about this!"

Hermione jumped again, looking around frantically to make sure no one around was paying attention. Luckily, everyone was quite engrossed in the match, though Hermione had no idea what was happening.

"Blaise, please, not here-"

"Then when, Hermione? When are you finally going to deal with this?"

"There's nothing to deal with it," Hermione said coldly. "I've told you this."

"And I still don't think you really believe that," he persisted.

Hermione had no response. She felt dangerously close to tears, and she was afraid further denial would only cause them to spill over.

"You're really stuck on the idea that you can't be happy, aren't you?"

Again, Hermione found that she couldn't respond.

"You can, you know."

"Can what?" she managed to choke out.

"Allow yourself to be happy without sacrificing all your other responsibilities."

"How would you know?"

Blaise reached up and turned her face towards him, immediately causing Hermione's walls to start crumbling. "Because it's you."

The crowd erupted around them, signaling the end of the match. Hermione, however, missed it completely. For as everyone around them was jumping to their feet, Hermione Granger was leaning to kiss Blaise Zabini.

* * *

Hermione stared into the fire.

_Stupid. _

What had she been thinking, kissing Blaise like that with the entire school right there? Granted, no one was paying a lick of attention, but there was still a huge risk of being seen.

And - and this was this kicker - it was completely Hermione's fault. _She _was the one who had kissed _him_. She could pin it on him, of course. He had pursued her and deliberately tempted her. Oh, that didn't sound like denial at all!

Hermione leaned her head back on the couch. No, this was all on her. And just because she had also ended it didn't negate the fact that she had initiated it. After a few moments, Hermione had broken the kiss in horror and left without so much as goodbye. She had to bite back tears as she rushed down the stands full of cheering students (Malfoy: "Nice one, Potter! I always knew you could do it!") to the sanctuary of the library, where she had sat in solitude for a while, not allowing herself to join in the celebration in the Gryffindor common room as punishment. She'd have to explain that to Harry and Ron at some point.

Now she was sitting in the Head's quarters in front of the fire, staring at the ceiling and wondering what she was supposed to do now.

She didn't think she could go on denying. Hermione had thrown any right to denial out the window when she had leaned in to kiss Blaise. Sure, she could chalk it all up to a mistake again, but at this point it would be pointless to do so, seeing as they both knew better now.

But she couldn't be with Blaise. It was just….how could she? Sure, it wouldn't be as weird now as it would be a week ago - since the instigation of the Policy of Friendliness, people would probably just assume Hermione and Blaise had discovered common ground or something equally silly. But her friends probably wouldn't see it that way…

"Ah, Granger! I see you didn't join your House for the celebration?"

Hermione craned her neck to look over the top of the couch. Malfoy had just entered, and Hermione inwardly thanked Merlin that he was alone. "Oh, I went for a little bit."

"Um, no you didn't."

"How-"

"I was there, Granger," Malfoy drawled, rolling his eyes he settled into a chair. "And I can safely say that your bushy head was nowhere to be found."

"You've really committed to yourself, I see."

"Why, I don't know what you're talking about," Malfoy said with feigned innocence. "But that's beside the point."

"And what, may I ask, _is _the point?"

Th

"The point is that Potter's biggest fan declined to show up to his celebration. One more win and he's got the bloody Quidditch Cup again."

Hermione didn't like the shrewdness of his tone. "I was feeling ill."

"The crying kind of ill?"

Hermione gaped at him.

"For the love of Merlin, don't look at me like that. You ran right past me," Malfoy waved his hand at her. "What, are you a closet Hufflepuff?"

"It's no business of yours," Hermione said haughtily.

"Oh, I know. I just thought I should point out that you're a horribly unattractive crier. You really should contain yourself for the sake of the public."

"Piss off," Hermione snarled, leaning her head back on the couch.

"Gladly," Malfoy said, standing up. "Oh, and McGonagall wanted me to tell you that the next Hogsmeade visit has been cancelled and that they're throwing a ball to replace it. I think it's safe to say the administration of this school has officially fallen to shit."

"Wait, what?" Hermione sputtered, sitting ramrod straight. "A _ball? _When? That's absurd!"

"March 13th. And you haven't even heard the best part: we have to go together," Malfoy said with disgust.

_"What?"_

"You can thank my wanker of a friend Zabini for that. His whole 'let's pretend to be friends with the Gryffindors to screw with them' plan made the teachers decide that the sudden interhouse unity shit should be further encouraged. Hence, we're stuck with each other for this stupid thing."

Hermione groaned. "I'll kill him, I swear," she muttered.

"Not if I get there first. Trust me when I say that I got the worse end of the stick on this one."

Hermione glared at him.

"Yeah, whatever," he rolled his eyes before disappearing into his room.

_Perfect. _Hermione groaned again. A ball? Really?

The silver lining was the cancelled Hogsmeade trip (meant to be in a week, which meant the ball was in about three). Sure, the students would be disappointed (until they heard about the ball), but it meant the Death Eater attack could only happen on one day - May 15th.

The more urgent matter, though, was this ruddy ball. That she had to go to with Malfoy. That could result in some very uncomfortable situations.

Hermione rubbed her eyes. It was too much.

As if on cue, there was a knock on the door.

_Please don't be him, please don't be him, _Hermione inwardly chanted to herself as she walked towards the portrait hole.

"We need to talk."

Hermione breathed out a sigh relief. "Sure, Harry. Come on in."

Harry stepped through the portrait hole, awkwardly rubbing at his neck.

"Good catch today. Sorry I didn't come by for the party, I had Head's stuff," Hermione said, wasting no time in launching into excuse mode. "You'll never believe it: they've cancelled the upcoming Hogsmeade visit in favor of a ball."

Harry frowned. "I would have rather they cancel it and not try to make up for it if a bloody ball was the best they could come up with."

"And I have to attend with Malfoy."

"Mother of Merlin…"

Hermione shook her head. "It's horrible."

Harry nodded his agreement. "Er, I didn't really come to ask why you didn't come to Gryffindor tower," he said uncertainly, clearing his throat. "Um, Hermione, is there something going on with you and Blaise Zabini?"

"Excuse me?" Hermione hedged, feeling as if a brick had settled into her stomach. "Why would you ask something so ridiculous?"

"Well, it's just that…I saw you kissing him after the Quidditch match."

"Oh…"

* * *

**A/N: **Dun dun dun...

Yeah, I know. A ball is totally cliche. But I needed something to replace the Hogsmeade visit, and I will allow myself a few cliches here and there. As well as some cheesy romantic shit.

Reviews are welcome!


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: **Wow, look at that. A quick update from me!

**Disclaimer:** Oh, you know. Harry Potter isn't mine. Sad face.

* * *

Hermione stared at Harry in horror. "How...?"

"That's the funny thing about being on a broom fifty feet in the air – you can see pretty much everything around you." For his part, Harry looked almost as embarrassed as her.

_Almost _being the key word.

"Um, well, the thing with that is..." Hermione trailed off pathetically, shifting her feet.

"I mean, I know you've been spending a lot of time with him since this whole Slytherin thing started but I didn't think – er, I thought it was all them pretending..."

"Oh, it is!" Hermione sighed. "But, um, with Blaise it's more complicated."

Harry blinked at her before averting his eyes. "Like how?"

_Oh, this is so uncomfortable!_ Hermione wished nothing more than for the floor to open up and swallow her, and she was pretty sure Harry probably felt the same way.

"So, um," Harry cleared his throat awkwardly. "You two do have a thing, then?"

"About that..."

Hermione shut her eyes for a moment. There was really no way to explain this all without coming clean about everything, and if she told Harry she would have to tell Ron, and she had sworn to Dumbledore she wouldn't tell them. _Then again, when has that ever stopped Harry from filling us in? _Hermione laughed humorlessly. Never, of course.

"What's funny?"

"Nothing, really," Hermione shook her head, taking a deep breath before casting a silencing charm on Malfoy's door.

The truth was, she originally had wanted nothing more than to fill Harry and Ron in on working with Blaise, but over the past month or so...well, she was kind of wishing she could have kept it all to herself a little longer. Partially out of being a stickler for following the orders of authority figures (those not named Umbridge, anyway). Partially out of shame, as she knew Harry and Ron would be disappointed she had failed to keep her undercover status a secret and allowed a Slytherin to figure her out. And partially out of fear, as Harry and Ron weren't exactly fans of Blaise Zabini, which surely meant they would be angry with her.

"So, you know how Dumbledore arranged all of this-" Hermione gestured to signify the entire Head's living quarters, "-so that I could keep an eye on Malfoy and hopefully get some information?"

"Yeah..."

"Well, I messed up," she sighed. "One night while I was listening in, I overheard Malfoy tell Blaise the Death Eater plan to assassinate Professor McGonagall. After I heard, I immediately set off to tell Dumbledore without thinking about how obvious it looked, and Blaise followed me."

"He followed you?" Harry repeated. "Just on the assumption that you had overheard Malfoy?"

"Um, well, it was more than an assumption. Apparently he's quite perceptive," Hermione said. "He thought I'd been acting strange, and seeing me run out right after some very secret information was revealed..." Hermione trailed off again, hesitating.

"And..." Harry prodded.

"Promise not tell anyone except Ron?" Hermione asked, pleadingly yet firmly.

"Of course."

Hermione took another deep breath. "Okay, well, long story short: he followed me, I caught him, Dumbledore caught me yelling at him, and then he made us partners."

"_What?" _Harry exclaimed.

"I know," Hermione replied. She then launched into the whole tale, explaining the secret meetings, Blaise's ambivalence about the war, their growing civility towards each other, the whole ordeal at Malfoy Manor. That part had, predictably, halted the tale for Harry to pace back and forth, express how heartily he would have disapproved of the plan had he known (though Hermione was sure he was merely sore at being left out of something so important), and to finally (albeit grudgingly) applaud her for evading Voldemort.

"I'll assume that's when the feelings started," Harry nodded to himself after calming down a bit.

"What do you mean?"

"You remember how you, me, and Ron bonded after taking out that troll?"

"Yeah, of course."

"High pressure situation, narrow escape, and getting away with it all?" Harry nodded to himself again. "Chances are you would probably bond with the person who experienced it all with you."

Hermione hadn't thought about it in terms of their troll encounter, but it made sense. "Yeah, I guess we were a bit closer after that. Almost like friends."

"And how long did the 'friends' stage last before...well, you know," Harry asked warily, appearing to by highly embarrassed again.

"A few weeks? I don't know, it's kind of a blur, actually," Hermione admitted. "It had been building up, but I knew nothing could come of it, so I refused to acknowledge that any feelings were there for obvious reasons. I was hoping he would do the same, seeing as we had something much more important to focus on. I was wrong, and he, um, brought it up right before the winter holiday started."

"Brought it up?" Harry raised his eyebrows. "Fun conversation?"

"Not particularly, no," Hermione sighed. "I ditched him before we really got around to discussing it...and then when I got back from break I rejected him."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "That didn't look like rejection to me today."

Hermione looked at the floor, not knowing what to say.

"So, are you two...together?" Harry asked tentatively, looking at the floor himself.

"No, but not for his lack of trying," Hermione sighed again. "It's just, ever since the Slytherins started this whole deal, he's been around a lot. He's doing it on purpose because he wants to, you know...be together, and I've been pushing him away. Today I was just feeling a bit worn out from it all, and then he showed up and it was just...too much."

Hermione warily stole a look at Harry to see how disgusted he was with her, but he was still contemplating the floor.

"How much do you hate me?" she asked quietly.

Harry's head snapped up. "Hate you? Why would I hate you?"

"Well, it is Blaise Zabini..."

"Oh, don't get me wrong, I don't like him very much, and I think you could do a lot better than some Slytherin who's best pals with Malfoy, but I don't hate you," Harry shook his head at her. "Now, if it was Malfoy, we would have a problem."

Hermione couldn't help but laugh, and Harry soon joined her.

"But," Harry said after the laughing subsided. "Why didn't you tell Ron and me about working with him? All these months and we had no idea what you'd been doing!"

"Dumbledore asked me not to tell anyone, including you guys," Hermione apologized.

"And did that ever stop me?"

Hermione bit back another laugh. "No, and that's why I'm telling you now. Better late than never?"

"Yeah, but I still wish it had been a lot sooner," Harry sighed. "So how is it going?"

"How's what going?"

"The thing with Zabini trying to get Malfoy to not form a coalition of students to fight against us?"

"That's what the whole Slytherin deal is about," Hermione waved her hand dismissively. "He's under the delusion that if they jokingly befriend other students, especially Gryffindors, then they may end up actually befriending them."

Harry snorted. "Sound like you're working with a real Einstein."

"Yeah, well," Hermione shrugged.

"So, er," Harry cleared his throat, looking embarrassed again. "What are you going to do about the thing with you and Zabini?"

Hermione thought for a moment. She hadn't come to a decisive conclusion, and Harry had shown up before she could contemplate the issue more. "I'm not sure. We don't agree on the matter, I know that much."

"Well, for what it's worth, I don't think it's a good idea," Harry said, taking a deep breath.

"But I thought you said you weren't mad-"

"I'm not," Harry said quickly. "Well, maybe a little. It's just that...with everything going on – you know the plan with McGonagall...I think you were probably right that you should be focused."

Hermione felt a mixture of emotions at Harry's words. On the one hand, it was always nice to feel validation for a decision she'd made or an opinion she'd held – particularly when she was emphasizing logic over emotions. On the other hand, a part of her had been hoping for an excuse to eschew logic with a firm hand.

As if sensing this in her expression, Harry added, "This will all be over in a few months," he said. "And who knows, maybe your warped feelings for whats-his-face-"

"Oh, don't be so immature-"

"-will have blown over by then." Harry looked pleased at the thought.

Ah, well. It's not like she had expected a warm blessing or anything. Hermione was actually quite relieved Harry had taken well.

"Ugh, I wish I could fast-forward until then," Hermione groaned. "This has all been entirely too stressful."

"Not to make it more stressful, but would you rather tell Ron now or later?" Harry asked. "Frankly, I doubt it will make much of a difference either way."

"Oh, Merlin," Hermione groaned. There was a zero percent chance Ron wouldn't fly off the handle. "Just get him now."

* * *

The rest of the school was happily discussing the news.

"A ball? Really?" Blaise asked to no one in particular. He was completely disgusted by the idea.

"Cheer up mate, it's bound to be oodles of fun!" Draco said, though his false cheeriness seemed more forced than usual.

"Yeah. The kind of fun that's not," Hermione mumbled.

As they had been for the past week or so, Blaise and Draco were seated at the Gryffindor table on either side of Hermione (who, as Blaise had predicted she would, was completely ignoring him). Unlike the past week or so, Potter and Weasley weren't skipping breakfast and were seated across from them.

Zabini didn't like their addition to the table (even though it was technically their house's table). For one, Weasley hadn't stopped glowering and glaring since he sat down. Blaise noticed most of those glares seemed to be aimed at him, but he saw no reason for it – Blaise had largely remained silent so far whereas Draco hadn't shit up since he'd sat down. For another, it was awkward. When it just been him, Draco, and Hermione, it had been rather enjoyable.

Now, however, Blaise found it much harder to put on airs of false friendliness. Seeing as that was the only time he could really talk to Hermione, this pissed him off. Though, to be fair, she would probably jut have ignored him anyway.

"Oh, don't tell me you're not excited about our evening together?" Draco asked melodramatically before throwing his arm over Hermione's shoulders.

"Uh..." Blaise responded, noting the pained expression on Hermione's face and the attempted smile on Draco's.

"That's right!" Draco choked out, clearly straining to sound happy. "The Head Boy and Girl have been asked to attend together, and we couldn't be more happy about it!"

Potter and Weasley glared at him, and Blaise barely restrained from following suit.

So Draco and Hermione would be attending the ball together. As if it wasn't bad enough that there was going to be a ball, now he was going to have to watch Hermione spend the entire evening with Draco. The kicker, of course, was knowing it should have been himself attending the ball with Hermione, seeing as he was the rightful Head Boy.

The idea of the ball already disgusted him before hearing this news. Now he was already coming up with what kind of excuses he could give to his friends for not attending at all.

"We're to be an example for the school!" Draco said wildly as Hermione rubbed her temples. "It's a right shame this ball is on such short notice, as it's bound to be difficult for everyone to find a suitable date. Luckily," Draco swallowed as if in pain. "I have no such task, as I've got the best date possible!"

"Can you please just shut up?" Hermione groaned, still massaging her temples.

Draco grimaced. "Cheer up...honey."

Hermione's response was to slam her head onto the table, narrowly missing her plate. Draco patted her back in a would-be gesture of comfort. Blaise narrowed his eyes at him, gripping his knife tightly.

"I'm just so excited," Draco forced out, though it was quite clear he wasn't excited at all.

"Please stop touching me," Hermione's muffled voice demanded.

Draco pretended not to hear her.

"If you're not careful you're going to draw blood, Zabini."

Blaise glanced at Potter, who was watching him with raised eyebrows.

Blaise dropped his knife. "Thanks, Potter," he said, trying to not let his insincerity show.

Weasley snorted. "Yeah, thanks a lot, Harry. I was hoping he would accidentally slice his hand in half."

"Oh, don't be such a sourpuss, Weasley," Draco piped up. "We're all friends here!"

"For the love of – I'm out of here," Hermione snapped, shaking Draco's arm off and all but running out of the Great Hall. Blaise watched her go with annoyance. The fact that she had ignored him throughout breakfast spoke for itself – she had no interest in discussing what had happened at the Quidditch match because she regretted what she'd done. Blaise scowled as she vanished from sight. Even though it kept happening and he had been prepared for it today, it still hurt to have her completely blow him off.

"Oh, she ran off before we could discuss decorations!" Draco sighed.

Blaise felt the urge to vomit.

"Please leave now," Weasley said firmly.

Draco, clearly mentally drained from the show he had jus put on, wordlessly left the table.

* * *

He found her in the back of the library.

She wasn't reading a book or writing an assignment – she was just sitting at a table, miserably staring into space.

"Hey," he said quietly.

She didn't look very surprised to see him there, though her expression made it clear that Blaise's presence wasn't exactly a happy surprise.

"I suppose you want to talk about yesterday."

"That was the plan," he replied, taking a seat at the table.

"I'm quite tired of talking about," she said wearily.

"Same here."

"You want us to be together, and I keep saying no," she sighed. "And quite honestly, it's exhausting. I thought that if I pushed you away it would be easier to focus on our work, but I was wrong."

Blaise felt his heart speed up a little. Was she...?

"It's about a million times harder to focus this way. We have a job to do, and we've been doing a piss-poor job of focusing on it, and it's my fault. I shouldn't have insisted on attempting to work strictly as partners."

He couldn't believe it. After all her protestations, she was about to tell him he had been right all along?

Hermione took a deep breath before continuing. "And so I've decided that the best solution is to not work together at all anymore."

"Wait, what?"

* * *

**A/N: **I know you might be wondering: why not include the part where she tells Ron so we can see his temperamental response? Well, honestly, I didn't want to. It would have felt repetitive to write, especially since my other stories has plenty of temperamental Ron reactions. I already find it tedious enough to have one character tell another character a lot of stuff that the reader already knows, and there was no way I was going to do it twice. And I didn't want to include Ron in the same scene as Harry because I didn't want an entire chapter of Hermione explaining stuff to them (hello, boring!), and if I'd had to put in another character's reactions, that's exactly what would have happened.

Yes, I know, I ramble.

And yes, the _stupid_ ball will be in the next chapter. If you couldn't tell by the character reactions to the news of a ball, I really hate dances. So yes, I thought it would be perfect to put one into my story in order to cause some dramz for the characters I love to torture. Mwahahaha.


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: **Ugh, I know, it's been over three months. But my record is still seven, so there's that! Not that I'm proud of that record, of course, but just keeping things in perspective!

Anyway, I do something a little different this chapter. Some may like it, some may hate it. But trust me when I say that it was unavoidable.

**Disclaimer:** If you recognize it, it isn't mine. The only thing that's mine is the plot.

* * *

She wouldn't hear his protests. When he'd started to argue, she'd simply stood up and walked past him. He'd followed her, but she hadn't stopped to listen to him. Blaise would have followed her all the way to the Head's quarters, but Potter and Weasley were waiting for her outside the library. They hadn't said a word to him as they led her a way, and all he'd gotten from Hermione was a last glance over her shoulder as she turned a corner.

Blaise told himself she'd looked upset, regretful even, as her eyes locked with his. But he knew he was kidding himself.

He'd stood there long after she'd departed, replaying the entire thing in his head. Why had he even bothered getting his hopes up? She'd made it clear all along that she hadn't wanted anything, had just wanted to focus on the plan. So why had he entertained the thought that she'd change her mind?

Because _she_ had kissed_ him_ while in a state of emotional turbulence?

Well...yeah.

Sure, she had run off in tears. But he'd allowed himself to hope that after mulling things over for a bit she'd come to her senses.

That was probably where he'd gone wrong – assuming that he was right and she was wrong. Blaise wasn't exactly used to this sort of thing, and Hermione had been running around with Potter and Weasley saving the world since she was eleven. She'd been dealing with these situations for years. Maybe she was right.

But maybe not.

Blaise stood there, staring down the hallway contemplating if there wasn't necessarily a 'right' and 'wrong' in this case until Pansy accosted him, demanding he take her to the ball since her first choice (Draco, unsurprisingly) couldn't.

He agreed, because he was in the same situation.

* * *

Draco Malfoy wasn't an idiot.

He glanced over at Blaise, who was dancing with Pansy and who he was unsurprised to find glaring at Granger. Not in an angry way, really. Bitter and gloomy, but not angry. Draco didn't miss the glares that were angry, though – though they were directed at _him, _not Granger.

Draco looked down at the Head Girl, who had chosen a spot on his shoulder to stare at while they danced. She was studiously ignoring Blaise's glaring, along with the other looks they were receiving.

Blaise was hardly the only student watching them. Nearly everyone in attendance at the ball had seemed entranced by the sight of the Head Boy and Girl arriving together. It was odd, to be sure; though Draco had spent plenty of time with Granger in the recent weeks, this wasn't exactly what he'd had in mind when he'd agreed to Blaise's stupid plan about being friends with the Gryffindors.

Because it was stupid. It was hare-brained and ridiculous.

And Draco hadn't bought it for a second.

He'd noticed Blaise's preoccupation with Granger for a while before the plan had been proposed. A look here, a glance there. It wasn't hard to figure out that something was going on.

Blaise making a beeline for Granger the day he'd instituted the plan was obvious. Blaise continuing to mark out Granger as the only Gryffindor he was bothering to talk to was _very _obvious. Blaise's current, persistent glaring was confirmation.

Draco had chosen Granger's left ear as his safe staring spot. Her hair was pulled back in a simple bun, so he could actually see it. Draco was surprised she hadn't shown up with the mess of curls she usually sported, seeing as she'd hardly made an effort to look nice; her version of dressing up had been to wear plain black dress robes. Most of the girls had gone all out with what they could manage on short notice, but of _course _Granger would hardly bother with her appearance. They were supposed to be the picture of inter-house unity, and here she looked like she'd rather be at a funeral. Her carefully blank expression wasn't helping.

"Try not look so glum. We're supposed to be _happy,_" he said through his teeth.

"Piss off," she bit out, though her expression remained impassive.

"No can do." Sad, but true: they'd been informed by McGonagall that they were stuck together for at least the first five dances, and they were only two in.

"Then at least shut up."

Draco refrained from rolling his eyes, instead glancing back over at Blaise, who shifted his glare a second too late. Oh, there was _definitely _something going on.

He looked back down at Granger, though she was still staring at his shoulder with her impassive expression. Draco couldn't begin to guess how whatever was going on with Blaise and Granger had started. As far as he had known, they'd never even had an entire conversation before a few weeks ago. But somehow, sometime, something had happened.

And now Blaise was clearly carrying a flame for the golden Gryffindor Head Girl.

It seemed improbable. Unlikely. Impossible, even. But Draco saw the signs, and outside of the improbability of it all, the only question left was _why _it had transpired.

Draco shifted his gaze from Granger's ear to her face, still carefully composed to show no emotion. She wasn't hideously disfigured, but she was no Veela. Certainly not attractive enough to merit a guy who'd never spoken to her to abandon years of wanting nothing to do with her.

"Stop looking at me," she snapped, tearing her gaze away from his shoulder to glare at him.

"We're supposed to be enjoying each others company," he drawled lazily. "I'm merely trying to keep up an image."

"Sod the image."

"Don't take it out on me, Granger. It wasn't my idea." Draco watched closely as her expression darkened and her eyes flicked in Blaise's direction. "As if I would ever come up with a scheme that would result in a bloody ball and a date with you."

"Whatever," she sighed as the third dance started up.

They resumed dancing, Draco returning his gaze to her ear. She'd known it was Blaise's idea, then. He'd guessed as much.

He left her alone for the rest of the dance, studying her friends in the crowd. Potter and Weasley weren't too far away from Blaise, and Draco watched interestedly as they both threw the occasional hostile glare at Blaise. _Interesting, _Draco thought. Potter and Weasley had no ostensible reason for throwing such looks at Blaise, seeing as Blaise wasn't the one dancing with their friend. They knew something, then, which meant there was something to know. And not just any something – something that would warrant Granger telling her stupid friends information that warranted such behavior.

Draco had pushed the idea of some kind of secret affair out of his brain initially. It was almost too far-fetched. It kept coming back to him, though. He'd seen Granger running past him in tears after the Quidditch match, and a quick glance behind him had revealed Blaise, who had been watching her with a flustered expression.

Blaise had been glaring at him all night when he thought Draco wasn't looking. Potter and Weasley were glaring at Blaise all night without caring if he was looking. And Granger...had been staring at his shoulder, ignoring Blaise completely and looking angry when Draco had alluded to him.

As the fourth dance started up, Draco reflected on things since Blaise's plan of being friendly with the Gryffindors had been instituted. The two of them had spent a large amount of time with Granger, who'd seemed nothing but pissed off the entire time. If some kind of steamy affair was going on, she'd have been happy at the opportunity to spend time with Blaise, wouldn't she? But if she was she hid it well; even Draco would grudgingly admit to being impressed and even amused by the cutting remarks she'd routinely thrown at Blaise. She'd exhibited nothing but downright contempt for him, actually. An unrequited crush on Blaise's part, perhaps?

"Oh, thank God," Granger muttered as the fifth dance started.

"Stop that," Draco ordered through a smooth smile. "Image, remember?"

"I don't _care _about an image, Malfoy."

"Maybe not. But it probably looks quite bad, you know, the Head Girl displaying an attitude so contrary to the inter-house unity she's supposed to be representing."

She looked at him sharply. "Don't patronize me."

"Don't give me a reason to," he snapped back, not breaking his smile.

"Then can you just not talk?"

Draco pretended to look affronted. "Really, this is your last chance to impress the professors with your maturity and dedication and this is how you act?"

"Shut _up-_"

"They'd be disappointed, you know, that you'd let a grudge stall your ability to complete a simple assignment."

"This isn't homework!"

"No, but they're still assessing us." Draco nodded towards the front of the Great Hall, where the professors had been carefully watching them since they'd arrived.

Granger glanced in the direction he nodded, looking unsure. "They understand?"

It came out as a question, though Draco wasn't sure it was meant to. "They understand that they expect you to look like you're a champion of the unity of all four houses and you're doing a piss-poor job of showing it."

She glared at him again, though there was no heat behind it. "I'm here, aren't I?"

"Not enough." Draco glanced over at Blaise, an idea forming that had very little to do with inter-house unity. Blaise was still glaring, completely ignoring Pansy. "You can still show them."

"Show them? The dance is nearly over," she pointed out, sounding immensely relieved at the fact.

It was a horrible idea. The fallout would probably be terrible. Terrible in a satisfying way.

The number faded to a close, and Granger started to step away from him. He gripped her hand and waist, pulling her back in.

"What...?"

Instead of replying, he leaned in and kissed her.

The fallout was nearly instantaneous. There was dead silence for a second, and then a pair of yells, and Draco had barely pulled away before a fist collided with his face.

* * *

"What the bloody hell are you doing?"

Hermione stood, her hands over her mouth, as Blaise landed another blow to Malfoy's face before someone – a Ravenclaw, she noticed vaguely – pulled him back.

She thought she ought to step in, but Hermione was still in too much shock to move. It had happened so fast she hadn't had time to react. Malfoy kissed her! It was absurd, insane, impossible – Malfoy!

Harry and Ron had made it to her side instantly, looking prepared to follow Blaise's lead. "What the bloody _hell _are you doing?" Ron repeated angrily.

"I don't see what the big deal is," Malfoy said, looking at Blaise almost triumphantly, and seeming rather smug for someone with a large bruise blossoming over half his face. "I was in the moment."

Blaise was breathing heavily and looking angrier than Hermione had ever seen him. It was probably a good thing for Malfoy that he was being restrained by the Ravenclaw who had pulled him back. "In the moment?"

"Well, yeah," Malfoy said with feigned innocence. "It was a romantic situation." Pansy, who had run to his side, stepped back with a betrayed look on her face.

Hermione unfroze, her shock being replaced by realization: Malfoy knew. She didn't know just how much he knew, but the knowing, smug look he was giving Blaise told her that he knew enough.

"What is going on here?" McGonagall and Snape had descended upon the scene, both looking positively furious.

"Blaise punched him!" Pansy declared, getting over her hurt and stepping next to Malfoy. "Twice!"

"Explain yourself," McGonagall snapped at Blaise.

Hermione looked over at Blaise, who was watching her. Her heart starting to race as she processed what had just happened. Blaise had just _attacked _Malfoy for kissing her. Hermione felt something in her stomach tighten in a sort of frenzied excitement, until her logic kicked in and all she felt was nervous.

How was Blaise supposed to explain himself? Oh, sorry Professor, I just punched my best mate because he kissed the girl I fancy, which probably looks weird considering most everyone is under the assumption that I barely know her, though you might be less surprised considering you know we've been working together on some cracked scheme because Dumbledore has a really strange sense of humor, so go easy on me?

"I felt bad for Pansy," Blaise answered suddenly. The Ravenclaw had stopped restraining him once the professors had shown up, and Blaise gave a little shrug that would have seemed sincere if Hermione hadn't known better.

McGonagall and Snape exchanged a look that clearly said they didn't believe him. Malfoy looked as if he wanted to snort but was holding back for Pansy's sake, who remembered he had just kissed a girl she hated.

"You did that for me?" Pansy asked, throwing Malfoy a disgusted look as she edged away from him and closer to Blaise.

Blaise managed a nod, but he wasn't looking at her. He was looking at Hermione, though she couldn't put a finger on his expression. It was almost like he was challenging her with his eyes, daring her to show she acknowledged that he had done it for her...and that he had done it despite her telling him they were done, in every capacity, for good.

"As admirable as your intentions may have been," Snape said, the hint of sarcasm easily discernible in his tone. "Violent action is never the remedy for such matters. Detention for a week, in my office, starting Monday."

"Fine," Blaise replied, not taking his eyes off her.

Hermione felt a flush creeping its way up her neck to her face. She had pushed back the regret she had felt that night in the library, pushing back a good helping of shame that had accompanied it. It was all coming back now as he kept his eyes locked on hers.

She hadn't wanted to essentially tell him to leave her alone. She hadn't said that, of course, but she knew that's what it came off as. Hermione had felt cruel telling him, but she'd seen no other option. With the date of the planned attack creeping up, she'd felt any other course of action would have been both selfish and distracting.

So far, though, the course of action she _had_ chosen was proving quite distracting anyway.

"You are also, of course, excused from the rest of the ball," McGonagall said with a tone of finality, pointing Blaise towards the door. And, with one last look at Hermione, he went.

"Alright, carry on," Snape drawled, waving a disgusted hand towards the crowd of students before stalking back towards the front of the hall, followed by McGonagall.

Hermione let out a deep breath. Had that all really just happened?

"I knew it."

Hermione jumped at the low voice in her ear, spinning around to face Malfoy. "What?"

Malfoy smirked, but didn't say anything.

"Malfoy," Hermione hissed. "What do you know?"

"Enough," he said smugly.

"Draco," Pansy said, appearing next to his shoulder. "Why did-"

"Go away," Hermione snapped at her.

Pansy looked affronted. "I'm sorry, I don't take orders from Mudbloods."

Hermione rolled her eyes, grabbing Malfoy by the wrist and dragging him away. He didn't try to resist, merely looking amused, as she dragged him past Harry and Ron's questioning looks all the way through the doors and into the Entrance Hall.

"Alright, Malfoy," Hermione said, dropping his wrist and jabbing a finger into his chest. "What do you know?"

"Well," he started, raising his eyebrows innocently. "I know that there was no reason for our dear friend Blaise to hit me tonight."

Hermione glared at him.

"Seemed a little uncalled for, if I do say so myself."

"Cut the crap, Malfoy," Hermione snapped.

Malfoy dropped the innocence charade with a roll of his eyes, swatting her hand away from him. "Any idiot could see something was going on, Granger."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not stupid" he replied lowly. "I have eyes, you know."

Hermione flashed back to the kiss in the Quidditch stands. If Harry had seen, was it so out of the question that someone else had?

"Don't look so horrified," Malfoy snorted, gingerly rubbing the bruised side of his face. "All you're doing with that is telling me there's more to know than what I know."

"And how much do you know, exactly?"

Hermione nearly knocked Malfoy over she jumped so hard. Blaise calmly stepped out from the alcove he'd obviously been standing under, his eyes flickering between Hermione and Malfoy.

Malfoy seemed unsurprised by Blaise's sudden appearance. "Enough to know that you have a massive boner for the Head Girl here."

Hermione blushed furiously, immediately dropping her gaze to her feet and hoping neither of them noticed.

"But you people are acting so paranoid I guess I've only discovered the tip of the iceberg – no pun intended."

"Oh my God," Hermione muttered, rubbing her hands over her eyes so no one could see just how embarrassed this conversation was now making her.

"You could just _tell _me," Malfoy said to Blaise, ignoring Hermione. "Since we're supposed to be friends."

Hermione looked up at Blaise. He was watching Malfoy with narrowed eyes, clearly debating on what the best thing to say would be.

"We could just modify his memory," Hermione offered, pulling her wand out.

"What? No!" Malfoy said, pulling his own wand out.

"You really _do _have a fondness for that spell, don't you?" Blaise muttered with a laugh.

Hermione glared at him. "It's not funny."

"It is a little."

"No it's not!" Hermione and Malfoy exclaimed at the same time.

Malfoy glared at her. "You are not modifying my memory."

"Give me a good reason not to," Hermione snapped, brandishing her wand.

"Because there's nothing to modify," Malfoy said slowly, looking at her like she was an idiot. "How many times to I have to tell you all I know is this one here," he nodded at Blaise, "seems to fancy you while you seem to hate him."

Hermione forced herself not to look at Blaise. "Why should I believe you?"

"Oh, come on!" Malfoy sounded exasperated now. "It's so obvious that something's going on, but_ I don't know_, even though I think I'm entitled to know, so there's no reason to get your knickers in such a twist!"

"Why are you _entitled _to know?" Blaise asked.

Malfoy snorted. "Considering the amount of...stuff I've told you the past year, don't you think I should be entitled to know what girls you get off to?"

"Oh my _God_," Hermione groaned again. "You don't have to be so crude-"

"Unless," Malfoy said, ignoring her and eyeing Blaise suspiciously. "Unless that's what this is about."

Hermione watched him nervously, gripping her wand a little tighter.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Blaise said calmly. Hermione almost smacked him; no phrase screamed _I know exactly what you're talking about _more than _I don't know what you're talking about_.

"I think you know exactly what I'm talking about," Malfoy said, narrowing his eyes at Blaise.

"I don't think-"

"I've been tutoring him!" Hermione burst out, giving an exasperated shrug for good effect. "He's been having problems in Ancient Runes, so I've been tutoring him in private to spare him the embarrassment."

Malfoy raised his eyebrows at her. "Tutoring him?"

"That's what I said," Hermione replied, hating herself for not being able to keep the quaver from her voice.

"Blaise hasn't gotten anything lower than an 'E' in Ancient Runes all term, Granger."

"There always room for improvement," Hermione replied, though it sounded thoroughly unconvincing even to herself.

"Sure," Malfoy snorted. "Whatever. Keep your secrets if you want. I'll figure it out soon enou – did you hear that?" Malfoy cut himself off, looking over at the doors of the Entrance Hall that led outside.

"Hear what?" Hermione asked impatiently. "Malfoy, I didn't-"

"Are you incapable of keeping your mouth shut?"

"There wasn't-"

"Hermione, be quiet." Hermione started at Blaise's command, issued lowly and seriously.

Malfoy and Blaise were standing still as stone, looking intently at the doors, but all Hermione could hear was the muffled music coming from the Great Hall.

She started to tell them as much when the entire front wall blew up.

* * *

**A/N: **Yup, that means what you think it means: homestretch, people!

Okay, I know I don't have to explain myself because it's my story, but I'm going to anyway: I hate dances. I never went to any in high school, even though I had a cute boyfriend to show off, because I can't stand them. And that's why there wasn't an extravagant stuff with the ball, because I hate them.

Now let me tell you, it was NOT easy to get the homestretch started. One of the reasons this update took so long is because I just could _not _figure out the best way to do it. I tried writing the ball from Blaise's perspective, and it was terrible. Then I tried from Hermione's perspective, and it was so bad I thought screw it, I can't finish this story, I'm done. But then I said screw it again, Draco gets a turn.

And you know what helped me say screw it? I went back and read all the supportive reviews, and I felt better. They really do help!


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N: **Crikey, this was a hard one. You know how I used to harp about how uncomfortable I was writing dialogue? Well, I got used to that a little. But as soon as I had reached that point of "Yeah, I got this" I realized dialogue was nothing compared to...action sequences.

Now, usually when I get's writer's block (aka the months I go without posting anything) it's because I haven't figured out details. As I've mentioned before, I don't plan everything out. I just have a very, very general outline of what key need to happen. I write a chapter when I've figured out what stuff needs to happen to get the next point or whatever, and then once I get to the point where I'm back to having no plan I stop. This system usually results in each chapter being written within a day or two of posting due to having inspiration.

But this time, I knew everything that was going into the chapter, I just didn't know how to do it. Oh, it was rough. Like I said, I usually only work on chapters for a day or two, but this one was a process. A long process (by my standards at least). I probably worked on it a little each day for the past two or three weeks. Sometimes I could only get a sentence out, sometimes a whole paragraph, and sometimes I would just stare at it for a bit before giving up. But it's done now, so upside.

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it isn't mine. I've only got the plot.

* * *

Hermione threw herself into the alcove Blaise had been occupying earlier, one hand fisted in Blaise's sleeve and the other gripping her wand so tightly her knuckles were turning white.

Screams were erupting from the Great Hall, and students began streaming out. At the sight of the missing wall, they scattered in every direction. Professor Flitwick ran into the Entrance Hall, firing off spells where the wall had come down in an effort to stall the progress of whoever had blown it off.

Judging by Flitwick's wandwork, McGonagall's magically magnified voice commanding all students to report to their dormitories, and her own common sense, Hermione had a good guess who was behind the destruction.

They should have seen it coming. Dumbledore and McGonagall had cancelled the Hogsmeade visit and replaced it with a ball, attempting to force the attack when they were prepared. Had they contemplated the possibility of attacking either way? The Death Eaters obviously knew the visit to the village had been cancelled with a ball, and they had clearly decided that it was an even better opportunity to attack.

Looking at the chaos around her, Hermione almost couldn't blame them.

"What do you know?"

Hermione snapped her eyes away from the scene to find Blaise holding his wand to Malfoy's throat. Malfoy had thrown himself into the alcove with the two of them, and he looked just as surprised as Hermione and Blaise at the explosion.

"Nothing – what are you doing?" Malfoy sputtered, holding his hands up in surrender. He had been a few seconds behind Hermione and Blaise ducking into the alcove, and his entire left side was coated in dust and bits of debris.

"You knew they were planning an attack. Did you know it was tonight?" Blaise demanded, snatching Malfoy's wand out of his hand.

"Does it look like I knew?" Malfoy choked.

"Answer the question!" Blaise snapped, a few sparks erupting from the tip of his wand and singing the collar of Malfoy's robes.

"No, I didn't know!" Malfoy insisted. "I haven't heard anything in weeks, I swear!"

"Think he's telling the truth?" Blaise asked Hermione over his shoulder.

Hermione studied Malfoy's panicked face, his eyes nervously flitting over the wreckage and the scared students. In all honesty, he seemed more frightened than Hermione and Blaise – though that might have something to do with Blaise's wand burning a slow hole through his collar.

"Yeah, I think so. Keep his wand." Hermione ignored Malfoy's sound of protest, watching the other professors converge on Flitwick to confer. "Alright, you take him back to the Head's dorms and watch him," Hermione said, making to join the professors.

"What? No, I don't think so." Blaise shook his head.

"The Slytherin dungeons would work as well, it really doesn't matter which."

"I'm not taking him anywhere! _You_ take him," Blaise protested.

"No one has to watch over me, I'm not a child!" Malfoy interjected.

Hermione and Blaise both ignored him. "He's your friend, you take him."

"That's why I_ shouldn't_ take him."

"There's going to be fighting, Blaise! You'll be safe if you take him!"

"I know, that's why I think you should take him!"

"I need to be in this."

"No you don't!"

"Yes, I do," Hermione insisted. There was zero chance Harry and Ron had gone back to the dorms like they were supposed to. They had probably already slipped off to wait for the fight and wondering where she was. "But you don't – you don't have any experience fighting!"

"I don't care, I don't think you should-"

"Why? Because I lack a Y-chromosome?"

"A what?"

"Because I'm a _girl_?"

"No, because I don't want you to get hurt!"

Hermione let out an exasperated sigh. "For goodness sake, I can take care of myself!"

An enormous _bang _echoed from outside; the wards Flitwick had put up wouldn't last much longer.

"Look, no one has to take me anywhere, alright? I don't want to sit around out here and watch people get blown to bits," Malfoy said. "I can take myself."

Hermione looked back to him, having momentarily forgotten he was there. He was eyeing the darkness outside anxiously, looking very much like he wanted to disappear.

"You didn't do your job, did you?" Hermione asked quietly.

Malfoy's eyes snapped back to her. "My what?"

"You were supposed to have organized the students to fight."

Malfoy's eyes briefly widened in surprise before narrowing at Blaise. "I knew it – you told her and the stupid Order everything."

"Guilty," Blaise said with a shrug.

"What happened to you – oh, sorry, I forgot," Malfoy said with a sarcastic eye roll. "I forgot you've been trying to get into Granger's pants."

"For the love of Merlin, Malfoy, this isn't the time for your crude remarks," Hermione growled. "Now answer the question!"

"No, I didn't do it, okay?" Malfoy snapped, his eyes flickering back over to where the doors used to be. "I never got around to it."

Hermione exchanged a look with Blaise as the wards outside took another hit.

"So yes, I'm telling the truth when I say I really don't want to be around for this," Malfoy insisted.

"Fine. Go," Hermione said with an impatient sigh.

"What? We can't just let him go!" Blaise protested.

"Can I at least have my wand back?" Malfoy asked weakly.

"Keep his wand."

"Oh, come _on_-"

"Go!" Hermione nearly shouted. Malfoy didn't look back as he ran for the staircase.

"Why did you let him go?" Blaise demanded with a a huff, pocketing Malfoy's wand. "He's probably going to come back to help them!"

"He won't. He'll be in too much trouble with them for failing to finish his task. And he doesn't even have his wand, so he wouldn't be much help anyway," Hermione said distractedly as the professors moved to take defensive positions. "Alright, go back to the Slytherin dorms. Or the Head's dorms, if you'd rather go there."

He pulled her back when she started to step out of the alcove. "Uh, I don't think so."

Hermione shook his hand off. "Don't you_ dare _tell me to go back to my room because it's not going to happen."

"Do you have to be stubborn about everything?" Blaise asked with a frown.

"I'm not stubborn about everything!"

Blaise's expression darkened. "Yeah?"

"Look," Hermione pleaded, glancing over her shoulder nervously. "This isn't the time or the place. Now_ please_, go back-"

"The only way I'm going back is if you come with me."

Hermione opened her mouth to protest when the first attack began, bursts of spells firing off from every direction. She felt Blaise pull her back further into the alcove as she searched the room for any sign of Harry and Ron.

"We have to go now," he hissed in her ear, gripping her wrist tightly.

"I can't! My friends-"

"Please, Hermione!"

Hermione stopped trying to pull her wrist free at the pleading tone of his voice. Her resolve to stay wavered a bit as he implored her with his eyes.

She'd always been in this with Harry and Ron. They were down here somewhere in harm's way, disobeying the professors to fight for their cause like they always did. And Merlin knew how many of her other housemates had followed suit.

Hermione looked up at Blaise. His resolve to stay if she refused to leave with him was clear. Clear, but hesitant: he was shaking a little. As he should be – he hadn't fought before, and the curses flying a few feet away were probably overwhelming him. If she insisted on staying she'd be consciously putting him in danger he wasn't prepared for.

"Alright, let's go," Hermione breathed, her resolve finally breaking as he flinched after a curse blew a chunk of wall out particularly close to where they were hiding.

Blaise breathed a sigh of relief, moving his grip from her wrist to her hand. Hermione let him wind his fingers between hers as they crept out from the alcove, edging along the shadows down the path Malfoy had taken. It was the wrong way to get to the Head's quarters, but Hermione would rather risk taking a longer route to get there before the fighting spread than trying to dash through the melee in the Entrance Hall to get there faster.

A quick glance back at the action nearly caused Hermione to stumble into Blaise; the Death Eaters had moved into the Entrance Hall. There was a lot of them, too, and more kept streaming in.

"Hurry," Hermione whispered, watching the Death Eaters spread out and start to dash up the staircases and into the halls.

They broke into a bit of a run down the corridor. Hermione cursed every footfall as they went; every step seemed amplified in the darkness.

Blaise abruptly stopped as the turned a corner, and this time Hermione did run into him.

"What-" Hermione cut herself off as she saw why he had stopped – there were three Death Eaters running in the direction they had been headed.

"Is there another way?" Blaise asked lowly.

"Not unless we go back the way we came." Hermione glanced behind them nervously. She could already hear the sound of feet approaching, and they couldn't afford to wait to see if it was friend or foe. "We'll have to keep going or find someplace to hide."

Blaise started off again, slower and quieter than before. Hermione trailed behind him, still grasping his hand as she walked at an uncomfortably twisted angle to watch behind them.

"We have to move faster," Hermione urged as the sound of approaching feet became louder.

"Here."

Hermione had just enough time to make sure there wasn't anyone to see before Blaise pulled her through a door. She shut the door as quietly as she could, holding her breath as she heard at least two pairs of feet pass by it.

"How many locking spells do you know?" Blaise whispered.

"Not enough," Hermione muttered. She knew some locking spells that the average student might not be able to break, but they probably weren't much match for full-grown witches and wizards.

"Just do them all," Blaise muttered.

"Do you know any?" Hermione asked as she worked on the spells.

"Not any that you wouldn't."

She let out a sigh as she finished. "Those won't help much if someone really wants to get in."

"Let's hope no one does, then."

They each stood still for a few moments, staring at the door apprehensively. Blaise hadn't released her hand yet, and so Hermione could feel his fingers trembling lightly. Hermione felt a wave of guilt wash through her – if she hadn't resisted so much, they might have made it back to the dorms safely.

"Stop that," Blaise hissed suddenly.

"What?" Hermione asked quietly, confused.

"You look like you're feeling guilty about something."

Hermione gaped at him. "I'm not-"

"You're too quick to blame yourself."

"This isn't the best time to point out character faults," Hermione snapped lowly, angrily withdrawing her hand from his grasp. "We really shouldn't be talking."

"So what is it this time?" Blaise paused, not looking at her but at the door. "Is it about me?"

Hermione looked at her feet. "Yes," she said honestly. He meant was she feeling guilty about telling him they couldn't see each other anymore, she knew. She hadn't actually been thinking that – she'd been feeling guilty about not getting him to safety – but she had been thinking about him.

"I just don't understand_ why_."

"This isn't the best time-" Hermione was cut off by the sound of something hard hitting the door, causing Hermione to leap backward with a gasp.

Whoever had hit the door cried out a spell in retaliation, and the doorknob rattled as whoever it was attempted to open the door. Hermione thought the voice sounded familiar, but Blaise was already pulling her back further into the room.

Hermione stumbled into him, preoccupied with searching the room for hiding spots. The options were few; it seemed as if the unused room had been emptied, with only a small table sitting in one corner.

The doorknob rattled again, "_Alohamora!_" a desperate voice shouted at the door, which of course didn't unlock, and Hermione froze in her tracks as she placed the voice.

"Ginny," she whispered in horror. The underaged girl had stayed to fight, and Hermione knew hiding wasn't an option anymore.

* * *

"No!" Blaise snapped, pulling Hermione back as she tried to bolt towards the door.

"It's Ginny!" she hissed angrily, yanking her arm out of his grasp. "I can't just not do anything!"

He grabbed her by the wrist again. "But what about-" Blaise cut himself off, because he didn't think she'd have forgiven him if he'd finished. _What about me?_

Because he was – though he would never admit it to anyone – quite nervous about having to fight. It wasn't something he was used to, not like her. And he really, _really_ didn't want to get used to it, either. Blaise had felt relatively safe in this stupid abandoned room, no matter how little confidence Hermione had shown in her abilities to block the door. If he were being honest with himself, he was actually quite scared about letting go of that safety. It was a selfish fear, of course, but he couldn't suppress it.

Blaise shook his head a little. There was no use dwelling on it, he supposed.

Hermione shook his hand off, and this time he let her. Who was he to stop Hermione from running to the aid of the friend? Though he cared little himself for Ginny Weasley, Hermione did. And because she did, he kind of did to.

Blaise looked around wildly during the few seconds it took her to reach the door, wholly unsure of where to position himself or if that was even a thing. Should he try to conceal himself? Get in a defensive position? What did that even mean? Should he just say _screw it_ and go balls out through the door? He blanched at the thought.

Hermione tore the door open, and Blaise caught a glimpse of Ginny Weasley before Hermione had pushed her out of his sight, and all he could see was flashes of light crossing in front of the doorway.

Blaise hesitated. He was a sitting duck just standing there, but it didn't seem like the best idea to run into the crossfire outside the door. He could stick with the original plan and attempt to hide, though he wasn't sure an old, rickety table would offer much protection.

And, quite honestly, the thought of hiding no longer seemed like a viable option now that Hermione had entered the fray. Blaise didn't think so highly of his skills that he thought he could pull out some Gryffindor chivalry and try to protect her, but he could at least attempt to fight alongside her.

_You can do this, _Blaise told himself desperately; the fighting seemed to have moved down the hall a bit – if he was going to do this, he needed to hurry. He only waffled for another brief moment before stepping up to the door.

Deciding against going in blind, Blaise stopped in the doorway and peered around the frame. Hermione and the Weasley girl were backed into a corner, fending off a group of three Death Eaters. Hermione seemed fine, but her friend was relying heavily on the wall for support, blood trickling from a large gash on her forehead. Blaise felt his blood run cold – if he'd stopped Hermione from leaving the room, her friend wouldn't have lasted much longer, and it would have been his fault.

The Death Eaters had their backs to him, and Blaise's shoulders sagged in momentarily relief. He might stand a chance, then. There was no way he could turn back now – Hermione's friend seemed on the verge of collapse, and though there was no fear in Hermione's expression or stance – just determination – she was outnumbered.

"_Stupefy!_" Blaise shouted before he could think about, stunning the largest of the three. As he dropped to the floor, his two companions whirled around in surprise, giving Hermione and her friend the precious seconds they needed to bring them down as well.

Ginny Weasley heaved a great sigh and slid the rest of the way down the wall, looking vaguely confused at his presence. She was white as a sheet, and Blaise felt his stomach roll when she reached up to touch the wound on her head. "Ew," she said, rubbing her fingers off on her robes.

Feeling as if he might hurl, Blaise looked instead toward Hermione. She was a little out of breath, but she seemed relieved to see him.

"Thanks," she breathed, smiling just a little.

"Uh, yeah," Blaise responded, because he was an idiot who was easily distracted by her smile.

She looked as if she were about to say something else, but something behind him had distracted her, and any trace of a smile was wiped out instantly. "Blaise, get down!"

Instead, Blaise started to turn around to see what it was that had frightened her so much, but he only caught a brief glimpse of wild black hair before he saw a flash of red and then nothing.

* * *

******A/N: **Yeah. I just did that.


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N:** So...yeah. It's been awhile. I had things going on, some of which were solid excuses (being kept busy by all the mandatory surveys I had to take before I could GRADUATE COLLEGE) and others, well, not so much (putting off having to write "action" type stuff). But hey, it wasn't seven months!

**Disclaimer:** If you recognize it, it isn't mine. The only thing that's mine is the plot.

* * *

"_No!_" Hermione cried as Blaise fell to the ground, stunned, and she caught sight of the attacker.

Bellatrix Lestrange.

Before Hermione could lift her wand to attack, Bellatrix had cast a blasting spell at the wall, and Hermione was forced to throw herself over the already-injured Ginny.

Debris rained down against her back, and Hermione bit out a cry as something sharp embedded in her shoulder. It felt like it took hours for the rubble to stop falling on and around her, though it only lasted a few moments.

When Hermione looked up, coughing, Blaise and Bellatrix were gone.

"Are you okay?" Ginny asked shakily, pushing herself up next to Hermione.

"My shoulder," Hermione said, wincing as she turned so Ginny could see what had struck her. "Get it out, whatever it is."

She hear Ginny suck in her breath. "This is probably going to hurt."

Hermione didn't care how much it hurt. Her blood had run cold when she saw that Bellatrix Lestrange of all people had taken off with Blaise. Any other attacker would have left him and struck against her and Ginny, but _of course _they'd had to run into the one who was a certifiably insane sociopath.

"Hurry, Ginny," Hermione urged.

"If you say so," Ginny murmured, and then yanked.

Hermione screamed, and she nearly vomited when she felt the warmth of her blood surging out of her new wound.

"It was a piece of glass," Ginny offered unhelpfully as Hermione put her hands on the floor to stay upright. "You should probably try to make it to the hospital wing."

"No time," Hermione ground out. "Do you know any healing spells?"

"Yeah, but-"

"Just do them, all of them, but make it fast, Ginny."

The relief was minimal, for Ginny had only known a few basic spells meant for minor scrapes, but Hermione could content herself with the fact that her shoulder wasn't bleeding anymore. The pain was still terrible, but it helped mentally to know she wouldn't be oozing out as she attempted to track down Bellatrix.

"Um, if you don't mind, can I ask why you were hiding in a room with Blaise Zabini and why he helped us out there?" Ginny asked flatly before Hermione even had the chance to stand up.

"We're friends," Hermione said, struggling to her feet (a task not helped by dress robes) and deciding there was no point in hiding it anymore.

"Friends?" Ginny asked skeptically. "That's all?"

"No it's not all," Hermione snapped before she could stop herself. "No, wait, yes it is-"

"Sure it is," Ginny snorted. "Let me guess, you're in the middle of some angsty, reluctant romance with Zabini and you have to run off to save his sorry arse now?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Hermione hedged.

"Please, we all saw him punch Malfoy back at the ball. It doesn't take a genius to figure it out."

Hermione stared at her friend. "I have to go now. You should go to the hospital wing."

"That's fine, change the subject. But I'm not going to the infirmary. I have to go find Harry and Ron," Ginny said, pushing herself to her feet. "Oh," she said, the color draining out of her face as she swayed on her feet. She touched a hand to the gash on her head again. "On second thought, your idea's better."

Hermione reached over and rapped Ginny on the head, casting a Disillusionment charm on her. "Don't stop for any heroics, and stop moving if you come across anyone, got it?"

Ginny nodded as she charm took hold, and before Hermione could blink the redhead had nearly disappeared into the background.

"And if you can't make it all the way there, sit down in some corner and wait for help, okay?" Hermione said nervously, remembering how unsteady Ginny had been on her feet.

"Yeah, okay," Ginny replied faintly.

Hermione immediately took off, trying to ignore the pain in her shoulder as she ran. She would have to guess which way Bellatrix had gone. Hermione blasted open every door she passed along the way to no avail before reaching an intersection, and it dawned on her that she wouldn't find them with a guessing game.

With only a brief hesitation, Hermione took off down the hallway that would lead her to the Entrance Hall, where most of the fighting was bound to be – which meant it was where Harry and his Invisibility Cloak (which he kept on his person at all times these days) would likely be.

Hermione passed a few skirmishes along the way, stunning as many Death Eaters as she could as she sprinted past them.

"Miss Granger, you should be in your dormitory!" Professor Sprout admonished her after Hermione had taken out one of the four Death Eaters who had cornered the professor. Sprout may have been frumpy, but the other three Death Eater who had already been unconscious at her feet when Hermione had stumbled across her was a testament to the professor's toughness.

"Sorry, couldn't help myself!" Hermione responded as she continued her sprint after Sprout had taken out her remaining attackers.

"Ten points to Gryffindor for your foolish recklessness!" the professor shouted from behind her, and Hermione barely had time to wonder if Sprout had misspoken before sh skidded to a stop against a banister.

The scene below her was, to Hermione's relief, a total clusterfuck. The Death Eaters, vastly outnumbered were trying a variety of methods to escape the onslaught of opponents, methods which included trying to climb up pillars and climbing on each others shoulders to reach higher ground. A few poor souls were trying to levitate each over the destroyed front wall.

Professor Sprout shouldn't really have been surprised to see her, Hermione noted, as a large amount of students had disobeyed orders to participate in the fighting. With a leap of hope, Hermione caught sight of Harry and Ron tying up a startlingly large Death Eater, who was obviously stuck in a Body-Bind curse.

Hermione sprinted down the nearest staircase, pausing so take down a few Death Eaters who were stumbling up the steps in desperate attempt to escape the melee. They clearly hadn't expected the participation of students.

"Harry!" Hermione cried as she ran up to her friends. "I need your cloak!"

"What for?"

"I need to be able to get up to your room without being seen so I can go through your things to find your Marauder's Map. I need to find someone who Bellatrix Lestrange captured."

Harry's expression darkened at the name. "Who'd she get?"

Hermione hesitated for a moment. "Blaise Zabini, after she saved Ginny and me. Ginny's got a good head wound but she'll be fine, I set a Disillusionment charm on her and sent her off to the infirmary."

Harry rifled under his dress robes, not asking for an explanation, only caring that Blaise had helped her and Ginny. "Why'd she bother taking him instead of just killing him?"

"Don't know, but I have to hurry," Hermione said, quickly taking his cloak and throwing it over herself.

"I thought Zabini must have a thing for her after that display at the dance," she heard Ron mutter as she ran back up the staircase. If she hadn't been desperately trying to save Blaise's life, she might have been distressed over the fact that everyone probably realized that something was going on between them.

She only passed one fight on her way to the Gryffindor tower, and she didn't stop to help. Only one Death Eater had been attacking Neville and Dean, and he was knocked out and tied up before Hermione had finished running past.

Harry's map wasn't hard to find when she reached his room; it was sitting on his bedside stand.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," Hermione said frantically, pointing her wand at the parchment. The map of the castle spread out before her, and Hermione's eyes couldn't move fast enough.

There, Bellatrix Lestrange and Blaise Zabini. In the dungeons near the Potions room. _Typical._

Hermione allowed herself a moment's relief that Blaise's name had shown up – because that surely meant he was alive – before she tore out of the boys' room, map still clutched in one hand.

She was panting as she raced through the corridors. Hermione had never really been athletic, and though not in poor physical shape, all of her sprinting around the castle was taking its toll. Hating herself for taking the risk of a break, Hermione slowed to a stop to catch her breath.

Hermione was on the floor the Heads' rooms were on. It wouldn't take long to run down to the dungeons from here, but first Hermione needed a plan. She wasn't a match for Bellatrix Lestrange, and Blaise wasn't going to be in a state to help her. Hermione's stomach gave an unpleasant lurch as she thought of what state he would be in; Bellatrix was insane, and she must have taken him for a reason.

With a jolt Hermione realized what that reason probably was. Snape had said he hadn't been able to modify everyone's memory that night at Malfoy Manor. If he hadn't gotten to Bellatrix and she'd noticed Blaise's presence and subsequent absence, she'd probably jumped at the opportunity to snag him when she'd had the good luck to stumble upon a traitor.

"Oh, god," Hermione moaned to herself. Bellatrix was not the Death Eater to run into when one had betrayed her side.

She had the Invisibility Cloak. The only way she could hope to best Bellatrix was through surprise, and that was something she could easily do. Disarming might not help, seeing as Bellatrix was criminally insane and would probably manage to strangle Hermione to death before her wand had even hit the floor. She could outright Stun her, but Bellatrix sensed someone approaching that might not be enough. She could risk relying on a silent approach, but the idea was nerve-wracking. Whatever she did, she wouldn't be able to do it while panting like a racehorse, though, and so Hermione made the decision to walk the rest of the way. It was torturous, knowing that the time she was taking could mean the difference between life and death, but Hermione couldn't risk giving up the element of surprise, which was her only advantage.

She could only hope she'd make it in time.

But first, she had to make a stop.

* * *

Blaise woke with a groan. What had happened? One second he'd been looking at the grateful face of Hermione, and the next minute he'd been hit with a Stunner.

"Oooh, he's awake," a voice spoke from behind him. "Oh, goody!"

The hairs on the back of Blaise's neck stood on end. He knew that voice, and he knew that its presence meant he was probably about to be tortured to death.

"Don't be shy, open your eyes!" Bellatrix said excitedly.

Blaise opened his eyes, because he couldn't see any way not doing what she said would help him.

"There now, that's better," Bellatrix said with a mocking smile, before snarling, "_Crucio!_"

Blaise cried out as white-hot pain engulfed his body. It was as if someone had set him on fire and then decided to stab every inch of his body before tossing acid on him. It seemed to go on for ages, though when the curse was lifted Blaise knew it had only been a few moments – and only the first round.

"Now tell me, my dear Blaise, why did you decide to betray us?" Bellatrix pouted, her wand still pointed threateningly at his heart. "Did it have something to do with the girls I caught you saving?"

"No," Blaise choked out.

"Liar. _Crucio!_"

Blaise knew he was crying, but it was no use. Even after Bellatrix lifted the curse, the memory of the pain was so strong that it was as if she hadn't lifted the curse at all.

"If I'm not mistaken, they appeared to be two of Harry Potter's friends. His girlfriend and the mudblood, I believe? Tell me, why would you be concerned with the well-being of Harry Potter's friends, particularly a mudblood?"

"I wasn't," he gasped. "You're mistaken."

"Oh really? Then why would the mudblood be smiling at you?"

"No idea."

"_Crucio!_"

"Tell me the truth and I'll kill you know and spare the pain," Bellatrix chimed once he stopped writhing. "Because I followed you and her out of the Entrance Hall. The Dark Lord said you were inconsequential, but I thought capturing a traitor was of the utmost consequence. Did you really think you could pull that stunt at Malfoy Manor and get away with it? I noticed you missing afterwards, stupid boy."

"No, I wasn't even there!"

Bellatrix gave a flick of her wand, and Blaise cried out as a gash opened along one side of his face, from his temple all the way to his chin.

"I saw you run into that room with the mudblood," Bellatrix sneered, flicking her wand and opening a new gash on Blaise's right arm. "Remind me of her name again?"

Blaise coughed, choking a little on his own blood that dribbled into his mouth. "I don't know her name," he muttered uselessly, and he gave another cry of agony as Bellatrix sliced open his chest with another curse.

"Funny, because I was under the impression that everyone knew the name of Harry Potter's mudblood sidekick. Does the name Hermione Granger not ring any bells?"

"No."

Bellatrix laughed as he screamed at the pain of having a gash opened across his stomach. "But this is too delicious! A pureblood from a respectable family having an affair with Potter's mudblood!"

"I'm not."

"_Crucio!_"

Blaise didn't have the energy to writhe in pain, though he felt it more acutely than ever.

"I can only hope that she won't be such a liar when I get my hands on her."

"Don't touch her-"

"_Crucio!_ Actually, maybe I do hope she'll lie, then I can have even more fun with her-"

Blaise vaguely registered a very loud _bang_ followed by a cry of _Expelliarmus!_ His vision was dotted with black, and the sound of one woman crying out in pain followed by one crying out in alarm sounded miles away.

A face appeared in his line of vision, but the black was closing in, and it was hard to make out who it was.

"Blaise, you have to stay awake!" someone was saying to him. He felt a hand gripping the uninjured side of his face.

"Can't," he murmured, his vision nearly completely swallowed in black.

"Please," the voice was saying. "Stay awake, Blaise, _please.._."

* * *

**A/N:** I regret to announce that, seeing as the climax of the story has now occurred, we are nearing the end of this fic. There will probably one be one more chapter, I'm sorry to say. But it can't be helped! All stories must end!


	26. Chapter 26

Hermione wasn't sure if she'd ever felt quite so hopelessly frantic.

Bellatrix – injured, disarmed, and bound – was cursing behind her, but Hermione hardly noticed. All she could process was that Blaise was no longer conscious, and a quick check revealed a horrifyingly weak pulse.

Blood was pouring out of his wounds, and Hermione desperately tried to mend them with a few healing spells, but the cuts were too deep for the spells to do any good. Sobbing at her ineptitude, she quickly magicked bandages onto every gash, but the bandages soaked through within moments. _Why _hadn't she learned more healing spells?

"Oh god, oh god, oh god," Hermione sobbed, checking Blaise's pulse. It was barely perceptible. There wasn't time to run for help, and she wouldn't have wanted to leave him alone here anyway let alone with a madwoman screeching on the floor next to him. Hermione's mouth quivered as she mopped her eyes, trying to keep it together so she could get help the only way she could think.

"_Expecto patronum!_" she cried, forcing herself to speak clearly in between sobs. "I need Dumbledore!" she yelled at her otter, and the image of it swimming out of her view was obstructed by her tears, which were streaming faster with every passing minute.

She leaned back down, sobs wracking through her body when she couldn't make out his pulse anymore. "Blaise," Hermione whispered, grasping his face with her hands. "Please wake up, please..."

She knew it was no use, but she couldn't stop quietly begging Blaise to regain consciousness.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, her tears splashing onto Blaise's face. "So, so sorry."

She sat there crying over him, Bellatrix still shouting every expletive in the English language at he, knowing somehow that this was her fault. If she'd never confronted him when he followed her that night to Dumbledore's office, or if she'd been more convincing when she'd tried to get him to go to his room tonight, or if – if-

Finally, Hermione heard the sounds of approaching footsteps, Dumbledore striding into the room with Harry and Ron close behind.

Dumbledore wordlessly knelt down and nudged Hermione out of the way. Harry and Ron were at her side helping to her feet in an instant, and she leaned on them for support, holding her breath as the Headmaster went to work.

* * *

When Blaise woke up, he felt the pain before he even opened his eyes. "Shit," he groaned.

"Language, young man." Blaise opened his eyes to see Madame Pomfrey giving him a reproachful look.

"Yeah, sure," Blaise muttered, closing his eyes again. He wasn't all that surprised to find himself in the infirmary.

"It's time for your potions, so you might as well open your eyes and attempt to stay awake for at least a few minutes. Unless you want angry, red scars for the rest of your life."

"I'll take it in a minute," Blaise said petulantly. "Just leave it on the table."

He heard the sounds of her setting the potion down and huffing away, and Blaise sighed in relief. His whole body ached, and the places where Bellatrix had sliced him open were throbbing unpleasantly. The last thing he needed while in so much pain was for that annoying woman to hover over him.

"They should help the pain as well, you know," a different voice spoke from next to head.

Blaise opened his eyes and turned his head a little to the right to see Hermione sitting in the chair next to his bed, her eyes gaze solemn and full of concern.

"What happened?" Blaise asked, realizing she must have been the person who'd saved him.

"You've been asleep for three days," she responded softly. "Your injuries were so severe that Pomfrey refused to use magic to wake you so you wouldn't have to feel the pain."

"I can feel it now just fine," Blaise muttered.

"She said if she'd woken you too soon the pain would still have been so severe that the potions wouldn't help."

"Fantastic. She couldn't have kept me knocked out a bit longer?" Blaise grumbled. "Anyway, what happened with Bellatrix?"

"I shot her," Hermione said quietly, her eyes widening a little, as if surprised at her own action. "In the foot."

Blaise chuckled, which hurt. "I find myself wishing you hadn't practiced to much and hit something more vital."

Hermione offered a very brief smile before continuing. "Then I took her wand and tied her up. She went with the rest of the Death Eaters, who were locked in one of the dungeon rooms until they were transported to Azkaban. I expect they'll be better off there. Voldemort won't be able to punish them for blundering up their plan so terribly."

"McGonagall? She's alright, then?"

"She's fine. Dumbledore made her stay in his office, turns out, and he locked it from the outside so that she couldn't get out. She still won't speak to him."

If Blaise thought it wouldn't hurt, he might have laughed.

"Dumbledore made Snape stay there as well. So that he wouldn't have to compromise his position as a spy, of course."

"So the plan was a complete failure?"

"To put it lightly. We didn't have any losses, just some injuries. Most of them were minor, thankfully."

Blaise raised his eyebrows at her.

"You're actually the only one who suffered major injuries," Hermione admitted. "Ginny had a concussion and a few other students had some broken bones, but that's about it."

"And you're okay?"

"I'm fine. You should worry about yourself," she said her eyes lingering on the gash on his face. "She tortured you."

It wasn't a question. "Yeah," Blaise sighed. "I might want to have a word with Snape about thinking modifying the memory of an insane psychopath wasn't a necessity."

Hermione looked down at her hands. "I thought that must be why she took you."

"She knew, and she knew you were involved somehow. Naturally, she wasn't very pleased when I denied everything. Or maybe she was," he snorted. "It gave her an excuse to trash me, at any rate."

"She did an effective job of it," Hermione said sadly. "Dumbledore got there soon enough to prevent your heart from stopping, though. A few more minutes and the blood loss would have – would have-" she broke off, her voice thick and her eyes shining with tears.

"But I didn't," Blaise offered quickly. "I'm fine."

"I know," Hermione said, taking a moment to regain her composure before she spoke again. "Or, I should say, I know you will be soon. Madame Pomfrey says you should be able to walk again in a few weeks if you take all your medicine." She paused, probably noticing the look of alarm on Blaise's face. "You'll be here most of the time until then, I'm afraid. But at least you get a wheelchair so you can take yourself to the loo instead of having a catheter," she said, pointing to the wheelchair positioned at the foot of his bed. "Well, you'll need help getting in and out of the chair, so you'll still have to put up with some invasions of your privacy."

Blaise closed his eyes for a moment. Hermione had saved his life, and the Death Eater's fan had been an utter failure. Relief flooded through him, though it quickly disappeared as a throb of pain went through his torso.

"Take your potion, it will help," Hermione offered quietly.

Blaise listened to the order this time, reaching for the potion. His arm, however, felt so heavy that he'd only been able to lift a few inches before he gave up.

"I'll get it," Hermione said. She reached for the potion, gently cupping on side of his face as she tipped it into his mouth.

The effect was immediate; as soon as it was down his throat, all he felt was a slight soreness.

"Better?"

"Loads. I don't know what Pomfrey meant by that 'weeks' thing. I feel fine now," Blaise said stubbornly, sitting up with the intention of swinging his legs over the side of the bed. His legs, however, seemed to only want to move a fraction of inch, and he'd barely been able to lift his head off the pillow, and even just that had taken all of his effort. "Can you help me sit up?"

Hermione gently helped him struggle into a sitting position, an action which caused a brief throb of pain. "This is going to be really annoying," Blaise muttered.

"I'm sorry," Hermione said, looking down at her hands after she'd withdrawn them. She'd sat next to him on his bed, and her expression was one of abject misery.

"It's not your fault," Blaise said bitterly, images of Bellatrix flashing through his head. He sincerely hoped that bullet had blown off at least a few toes.

"I could have gotten there faster," Hermione said shakily, and Blaise was torn to see tears in her eyes as he looked up at her. "I was so out of breath, and then I wasn't sure what to do, and I was scared, and I dithered for too long thinking about it-"

"Don't do that," Blaise said, cutting her off. "I'm going to be fine in a few weeks, you said so yourself.

"I can't help it!" Hermione responded tearfully. "I thought you'd died after I found you, and if I'd gotten there a even a few minutes later, you probably would have!"

"But you didn't get there later," Blaise pointed out. "Don't torture yourself like that."

Hermione's head dropped into her hands. "I thought you were dead, and it would have been my fault," she said, her voice muffled by her hands and her tears.

"Stop." Blaise wanted to draw her hands away from her face, but he knew he didn't have the strength. "Please, stop."

Hermione looked up at him, tears running down her face.

"You saved my life, Hermione. Can't you just be grateful that you succeeded?" Blaise had meant it to sound like a joke, but it came out as more tired than anything.

Hermione reached out then, tracing the gash on his face with a finger. It wasn't painful – the potion had taken care of that – but Blaise felt his pride object to her seeing with such ugly scars on his face.

"Madame Pomfrey says most of the scarring will go away if you take your potions," Hermione said, her hand lingering on his cheek. She'd stopped crying, to Blaise's relief, thought she still looked as if she were harboring a great deal of unearned guilt. "You'll still have them though. They'll just be lighter and they won't be raised."

Blaise had figured he'd be stuck with some scars. To go along with the mental ones.

"I should also probably tell you that everyone knows that we had some kind of relationship going on. As it turns out, no one bought your excuse for punching Malfoy as a defense of Pansy Parkinson's feelings."

Blaise had wondered if people would buy that sorry excuse. "Pity."

"And then there was the thing with me saving you, and then me coming up here to check on you. Those didn't help with the gossip."

"I guess I've ruined your reputation by being such a damsel," Blaise said lightly, masking the pain (emotional, this time) that would inevitably come when she told him they'd have to tell everyone they were delusional or whatever.

"Probably," Hermione responded, wiping the last of the tears from her face. "I'm not sure if the gossip included anything about you working against the Death Eaters."

"Figures," Blaise said irritably.

"Last I heard, everyone thinks I'm mad for having a torrid love affair with a Death Eater sympathizer and rushing to your aid."

"Wouldn't the fact that I was being tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange tip them off to the fact that I'm not actually a Death Eater sympathizer?"

"You would think," Hermione said with a grin. "And yet."

It was cruel of her to grin like that when she was about to add insult to injury by telling him she'd set them straight that there was no such affair. She had no right to do something so pretty at such a time.

"I wonder how they'll react when they find you were working against the Death Eaters," Hermione pondered, still grinning. "Actually, they'll still keep thinking I'm mad."

"Still?"

"They might find you a little less exciting, seeing as it would reduce their view of you as a 'bad boy' quite a lot. Torrid love affairs aren't as exciting without a 'bad boy,' you know."

Blaise blinked. Why was she going on about this?

"Not that that will help with Harry and Ron. They'll still think you're no good, at least at first."

"At first?" Blaise said in confusion.

Hermione leaned over, and almost in slow-motion, laid a gentle kiss on his lips. Blaise was momentarily stunned, for he had been convinced she'd lay down the "there is no us!" declaration again. As it dawned on him that she wasn't going to, he kissed her back with a little more urgency (not every part of his body was injured, for Merlin's sake!). Entirely too soon, she drew back from him, and Blaise wished he had enough strength to raise a hand to prevent her from pulling away.

"I quite like you, Blaise Zabini," she murmured, lacing one of her hands with his.

"I'm confused," he responded dumbly, though he strained to curl his fingers around hers.

"I ought to apologize for being so cold to you for the past few weeks. I'll try to make it up to you, I promise."

"I thought you said I was a distraction. The war's not over..."

Hermione smiled at him, though Blaise thought it looked a little strained. "I guess I realized that distractions aren't always such a bad thing."

Blaise frowned, wondering if it was a trick of his eyes. Something more immediate was frustrating him a little more, though.

"What is it?" Hermione asked, her smile faltering.

"It's just that," Blaise sighed. "Well, I kind of wanted to kiss you again, but it's too hard to move."

Hermione ran her fingers over the scar on his cheek again. "Poor you."

"I think I'll need some help."

With a laugh, she leaned forward and kissed him again, and Blaise was perfectly satisfied to accept the idea that he seemed to always need her help.

* * *

**A/N:** Oh, how it pains me to end it so fluffily.

Except it doesn't pain me, because the epilogue will qualify the fluff a bit. Yes, there will be an epilogue. A few loose ends to tie up and whatnot. And there was no way I could finish this without including some time with Blaise being crankily pushed about in a wheelchair.


	27. Epilogue

**A/N:** I decided to post this quickly, seeing as it's the epilogue (aka short) and really just an extension of the last chapter.

**Disclaimer:** For the last time this fic – if you recognize it, it isn't mine. The only thing that's mine is the plot.

* * *

"Malfoy still won't leave the Heads' rooms," Hermione told Blaise a few days later as she wheeled him up and down the corridor outside the hospital wing. Blaise had hoped he'd at least get to spend a few hours outside the blasted wing, but Hermione had pointed out that the castle didn't have handicap ramps (whatever those were), so he'd gloomily requested a ride around the corridor. It wasn't exactly cheerful, but Madame Pomfrey annoyed him, and and she couldn't hover over him out in the hall.

"Not surprising. Now there's a boy with a ruined reputation," Blaise responded.

"I think he's afraid his mother will show up again," Hermione said. "He shouldn't be. I'm fairly certain Dumbledore told all the Auror's guarding the gates that she was no longer permitted on school grounds."

Apparently, Narcissa Malfoy had shown up that night after Hermione had left the hospital wing to get supper. She'd marched right into the Great Hall and up to the Slytherin table, demanding that her son leave school with her. Malfoy had refused, effectively shocking the entire school. A brief shouting match had followed before Dumbledore had shown up to personally escort the Malfoy matriarch off the premises. Afterwards, Malfoy had gone up with Dumbledore to his office. Hermione had heard that he'd asked the Headmaster for protection so he wouldn't have to be punished for refusing to join the Death Eaters.

"McGonagall told me they're going to hide him in a safe house after the school year ends," Hermione continued. "Maybe they'll put the two of you in the same one."

"That'd be interesting," Blaise said, not sure how he felt about the idea. "Though since I'll actually be helping fight instead of just hiding, I would hope they'd put me with other active fighters as opposed to cowards."

"It was quite brave of him to stand up to his mother like that, you know."

"If he were really brave he'd actually volunteer to fight with us."

"Either way, you shouldn't get your hopes up about about by staying in a safe house with active fighters, because you probably won't, not if you're not well enough," Hermione reminded him. "I probably won't be seeing you much after school ends and they hide you."

"So I guess you'll get a break from having to save me."

"It could be a long one. You won't be allowed in the field unless Mad-Eye thinks you're up to it."

"I'll be walking by the time school lets out. I'll be fine," Blaise replied, using flippancy to mask his displeasure (and mild alarm) of being separated from Hermione for who knows how long. If Mad-Eye Moody was the one who decided when he got out of his sick – er, safe – house, he could be stuck there for months.

"Just because you'll be able to walk doesn't mean you'll be able to fight. And you might need some training."

Blaise did not want to listen to Hermione list off all the obstacles that would keep him away from her for entirely too long. "You're quashing my hopes of becoming a revered war hero, you know that?"

"Yeah, yeah," Hermione said dismissively.

"Wheel me over to stairs so I can pretend I can leave this stupid corridor, will you?" Blaise asked, hoping to ward off anymore talk of what would probably turn out to be a very lonely, depressing next few months for him.

"If you say so."

Blaise looked down the steps with annoyance, as three people were currently walking up them, effectively ruining his fantasy of walking down them. His annoyance switched to apprehension, though, when he realized who they were.

"Thought we'd stop by," Weasley said, glancing at Blaise for only a brief moment before looking at Hermione. "We figured you'd be yearning for some good company."

"Don't be a git, Ron," his younger sister admonished. "Actually, we came here so I could thank you," she said to Blaise. "For, you know, helping me."

"No problem," Blaise muttered.

"I, er, hope you feel better," Potter said to him awkwardly.

Blaise nodded his thanks. Gods, this was awkward.

"Thanks for punching Malfoy, by the way," Weasley added.

"Ron," Hermione sighed with exasperation.

"Okay. Well, that's what we were here for," Potter said. "See you around."

"Bye," Hermione said.

Blaise watched her friends go with relief. "That was weird."

"It will get less weird eventually. Probably."

"You are so reassuring," Blaise said sarcastically.

"If it helps, Madame Pomfrey did tell me you might get upgraded to a walker by the end of next week. You might actually be able to go down stairs instead of just looking at them. So there's that."

"I still don't see why I can't do my bed rest in my own bed," Blaise said grumpily.

"Madame Pomfrey said she doesn't trust you to take your potions at the proper times."

"She seems to be under the delusion that I don't want to get better."

"Well, Madame Pomfrey said she thinks you have self-esteem issues that stunt your will to take care of yourself."

"She's mad," Blaise exclaimed. "Why does she hate me so much? All I want is to mope about my limited mobility in the comfort of my own bed! Is that too much to ask?"

"Madame Pomfrey said-"

"Sod what Madame Pomfrey says," Blaise said, cutting her off. "She's a crazy old bat who has an inexplicable grudge against me."

"I know. But if you had let me finish, I was going to say that Madame Pomfrey said you could to your own room once you could use a walker if you agreed to come up here and have her check on you once a day."

"Are you joking? Wobbling all the way up here from the dungeons every day? She's crazy! She probably only said that to taunt me."

Hermione sighed behind him. "I guess you're stuck in the hospital wing after all. Though once you get your walker, you're welcome to wobble down to the Heads' dormitories anytime if you think you'd be more comfortable on the couch there. The fireplace is quite cozy."

The offer was too tempting to turn down. "I might just take you up on that."

"Besides, you are kind of entitled to spend some time there, don't you think?"

"You're right. It should have been me living in the dormitory with the cozy fireplace and charming Head Girl in the first place."

Hermione laughed, and Blaise thought the next few weeks would be fine no matter where he was if he could just hear her laugh like that a few times a day.

* * *

**A/N:** _Finis!_

It's kind of weird being done with this, my first completed non-one-shot fic. I have a few ideas in store for some more, but for now I'll be focusing on my Draco/Hermione fic, so check that out if you feel like it/think you can put up with more of my spontaneous updates, because that's my only WIP.

Anyways, thanks for sticking with this fic. It certainly took a while, didn't it? I never meant for this to be drawn out over...uh, more than 3 ½ years...christ, that's a long time to write a fic of moderate length! Ah, well. Thanks for putting up with me!


End file.
